


My Pet

by VioletGreen



Series: You belong to me. [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 42,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6357292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletGreen/pseuds/VioletGreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John was not expecting this. Why was Moriarty taking him? He wasn't the criminal mastermind's main focus. It should be Sherlock. Why wasn't it Sherlock? No, John can't think like that. He would do anything to protect Sherlock. Even give his life to save that brilliant man. So, John is ready to leave with Moriarty to save Sherlock's life until the criminal discovers the truth. Why must he be so damn changeable?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegame_ison91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegame_ison91/gifts).



> This is for my partner in crime, thegame_ison9. I love you so much, girly. 
> 
> I hope everyone else enjoys it too.

John awoke with a start as he felt like he was being pressed down into his mattress. _What the fuck,_ he wondered as he felt someone wiggling their body on top of him. He could make out a silhouette of a figure from the light illumining his room from the moon’s rays shining in through the window. John went to move but was suddenly taken back when a soft silky hand clamored over his mouth along with the sharp edge of a blade pressed against his Adam’s apple. The doctor froze, breathing slow and steady through his nose in order to make sure the blade did not pierce his skin. 

“Ever the soldier,” an all too familiar Irish voice purred into his ear. “I’m going to enjoy taking you apart, pet. That way I get to put you back just the way I like it.” 

John shuddered at the thought as his stomach tightened into knots. His army training wanted to take hold and fight his way out of this but the knife stayed firm on his throat. He couldn’t move. With Moriarty straddling him, the man’s knees were pressing into John’s arm to keep him in place. John was trapped. 

“Even in the dark I can see how afraid you are. It’s very becoming on you, Johnny boy, but I can make it so fear doesn’t control you. I can show you how it could make you better, stronger, faster and I will so love to watch. You’re a caterpillar, Johnny, but Daddy’s here to make you into the butterfly you were meant to be.” Moriarty slid the blade cross John’s throat hard enough to leave an anger red line in its wake. “Doesn’t that sound wonderful?” 

John had never felt so much terror before. Not even getting shot terrified him as much as he was right now. Moriarty was on top of him with a knife to his throat and talking about breaking him like he was a toy. John couldn’t face this. Not without Sherlock. _Oh Christ, Sherlock!_ A new sense of terror washed over him. He wanted to know what this madman had done to Sherlock. Where was his flat mate? Was he alright? Did Moriarty hurt him? 

As if Moriarty could read John’s thoughts the criminal said, “Don’t worry, Johnny. As long as you do as Daddy says I promise I won’t kill your precious Sherlock.” Moriarty ran the knife down the side of John’s neck. “I’m not here for him anyway. I don’t care about him. I’m here for you.” 

John wasn’t prepared for this. Why did Moriarty want him if not to get back at Sherlock? What was the point of this? Why was he Moriarty’s main focus? 

“I’ve been watching you, Johnny boy, ever sense you stepped into the picture. I thought you were in my way of Sherlock. But, with what happened back at the pool, ready to give your life for his, it just was too precious.” Moriarty leaned down and touched the tip of John’s nose with this own. “I must say it was very heroic of you, pet, or very stupid. I kept replying it over and over in my head. Why would a man like you save a man like Sherlock? Then it hit me. You’re not the dimwitted man I thought you were.” Moriarty lifted the knife to John’s cheek and let it glide gently across the doctor’s skin. “You’re much cleverer then you let on. Hell, you are a doctor after all. Underneath that jumper is a man worth exploring.” Moriarty pressed the sharp edge of the blade down the side of John’s neck, letting it pierce the skin. John closed his eyes and let out a small hiss that was muffled by Moriarty hand still covering his mouth. Moriarty smiled as he bent down and lapped up the blood. “You taste divine, pet,” Moriarty purred as he wiggled his hips. “I’m curious to find out what you taste like in other aspects. Care to indulge me?” 

John’s eyes snapped open. _Did he just? Oh, fuck no._ John couldn’t help it this time. He started to struggle as he cursed profound muttering at Moriarty. There was no way in hell he was going to let Moriarty do anything to him. He would rather die. 

“Well, I could always get what I want from Sherlock. I’m sure I could make him love it,” Moriarty said to excitedly. 

John stopped, letting his mind wrap around that horrific thought. He could see it. Moriarty’s bare arse in the air as he thrust into Sherlock. Forcing his flat mate to beg and scream in pain. John shook his head feebly. He didn’t want this sick fuck to touch Sherlock. Not like that. 

“Good,” Moriarty cooed. “Now, that I have your undivided attention, pet. Here is what’s going to happen. I’m going to get up and when I do so will you. If you make any sudden moves to attack me or make any crude remarks Sebastian Moran will put a bullet in Sherlock’s brain. Nod if you understand.” 

So many things raced through John’s mind. He wanted to fight back but the thought of a gun pointed at Sherlock’s head made him panic. John didn’t want Sherlock to die. With a curt nod from John Moriarty removed his hand and sat back on his heels. 

“There’s a good boy,” Moriarty mused. The criminal moved off of John and backed away towards the closed door. “On your feet, soldier.” 

John took a deep breath before he threw back his covers and sat up. He swung over the side until his bare feet were on the floor. With what little light shined through the window John looked up at the silhouette of the master criminal and he hated that he could see the madman’s toothy grin. John wanted to wipe that stupid grin off of the maniac’s face. 

“We haven’t much time, Johnny boy. It’s either you or him. What’s it going to be?” Moriarty asked, sounding slightly impatient. Without a word John stood and walked over to Moriarty. “That’s what I thought.” Moriarty opened the door and motioned for John to exit first. 

John obeyed as he walked out the door and down the stairs to the sitting room. His eyes met that of Sherlock’s who was sitting in his own chair. He took a step forward only to freeze the moment the gun that was pointed at the back of Sherlock’s head was cocked. 

“I do hope you haven’t become too attached to your pet, Sherlock. I know how people can be so sentimental about them.” Moriarty lifted his hand and ran it through John’s hair. “Such loyalty but it does tend to make one wonder what personality disorder he has. Putting himself in the line of fire, catching my eye as it were. Showing off to try and impress...” Moriarty’s hand fisted in John’s hair, yanking it back so he could look at John’s face. With the knife still in his other hand he placed the blade back to John’s throat. “If you wanted my attention, Johnny boy, all you would have needed to do was ask.” He pressed the blade harder into John’s throat, causing John to bleed. Moriarty leaned in and licked it away, forcing a half hiss and half moan from John’s throat. 

“Stop this, Jim,” Sherlock snarled as he tried to stand but Moran grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him back into his chair. “You made your point. Just leave and I’ll back off.” 

Moriarty smiled, John’s blood staining his teeth. “Like I told you before, Sherlock,” Moriarty began as he ran the blade down the front of John’s white t-shirt. “This isn’t about you. Oh no. This is about Johnny boy here and getting myself a _live in one_ as it were.”

Panic over took any morals Sherlock had. He forced himself out of Moran’s hold and rushed forward, gripping Moriarty around the throat. “I won’t let you take him.” 

John saw Moran raise his gun to Sherlock’s head and John did the only thing he could to distract Sherlock. He grabbed onto Sherlock’s face and turned his head to crush his lips against Sherlock’s. Everyone froze. After a moment John pulled away to gaze into the eyes of a very confused Sherlock. It was then that Moran grabbed Sherlock and pulled the detective back into his chair. 

Moriarty straightened his suit and picked off some invisible lint only he could see from off his suit jacket. “Well, that was interesting.” He looked up at John and said, “That was a cute trick, pet.” 

“It made him stop, didn’t it?” John muttered. 

“Indeed, it did but I’m sensing something much deeper than that,” Moriarty said, closing the space between him and John. “Look at me, Johnny.” 

John didn’t want too. Christ, he just wanted to go back to bed and pretend he just didn’t kiss his flat mate to force him to stop choking his archenemy. It was stupid and foolish but it the only thing he could think of because he didn’t want Sherlock to die. He could feel Sherlock’s intense gaze on him but he couldn’t even bring himself to look in the detective’s direction. Finally, John looked up at Moriarty and said, “Why don’t you just kill me?”

Moriarty chuckled at that. “Because this way is much more fun, Johnny boy,” Moriarty said, forcing John to turn around. “Look at him, pet.” 

John hesitated but finally he looked up to meet Sherlock’s eyes. They were wide and child like. He looked so innocent and John didn’t know what to do. He wanted to tell Sherlock he was sorry and that he didn’t mean anything by it. But, that would play into Moriarty’s hand and he knew Sherlock didn’t want that. 

“I’m going to ask you a question and you better answer truthfully, Johnny,” Moriarty paused a moment for the dramatic effect. “Are you in love with Sherlock Holmes?” 

John closed his eyes. Why would Moriarty ask such a thing? What was the point of this? John opened his mouth and was about to speak but nothing came out. He snapped his jaw shut and thought about what he should say. However, with the lack of words on his part Moriarty took it as his answer.

“Oh God, you are, aren’t you? You’re in love with him,” Moriarty said excitedly. “The ever faithful blood hound is in love with his master. How hopelessly tragic for you.” 

“Piss off,” John snarled, pulling out of Moriarty grasp. “I’m not gay.” 

Moriarty smiled devilishly at John, pressing his body up against the doctor and said, “No one is questioning your sexuality, Johnny boy. But, I can see through your little white lies. You want him, don’t you?” Moriarty began to rub his crotch up against John’s thigh. “I can hold him down if you like and give you what you’ve been longing for. Anything you want, pet. I’ll give it to you.” 

John was outraged and appalled by Moriarty’s words. Something in his chest tightened at the thought of Moriarty holding Sherlock down while he fucked him. The madman didn’t know him at all. “I swear if you touch him, Moriarty, I will kill you.” 

“Oh, touchy,” Moriarty sneered. “Fine, I’ll just sit back and watch.” 

John had had enough. He pushed Moriarty away, readying to punch the man in the face but froze at the sound of a gunshot being fired. The doctor turned towards Sherlock and saw that Moran fired the shot. “Sherlock!” John rushed over to Sherlock and began to look him over. 

“I’m fine, John. The bullet only grazed the top of my ear,” Sherlock replied softly, raising a hand to his right ear.

John looked and saw that Sherlock’s ear was bleeding. It angered John and he stood, glaring at Moran who looked unfazed. “You fucking bastard,” John growled. 

“Stand down, Captain,” Moran warned with the gun still pointed at Sherlock’s head. 

John didn’t look like he wanted to back down. But, Sherlock’s voice brought him back as he heard his flat mate say, “John, I need you to calm down. You’re thinking irrationally which will get someone hurt or worse. You must keep your head, John.”

As much as John hated it he knew Sherlock was right. Because of his actions Sherlock got shot even if the bullet only grazed his ear. “I’m so sorry, Sherlock,” John whispered to Sherlock. He wanted to reach out and take Sherlock’s hands or caress his cheek. Anything to be able to touch him but any thoughts suddenly vanished when he heard Moriarty speak. 

“Yes you must keep yourself calm, Johnny boy,” Moriarty said, stepping up behind John, and rapping his arms around the doctor’s waist from behind. Moriarty rested his chin on John’s right shoulder as to not injure the left one. “Wouldn’t want Daddy to punish you now, would we?” Then he added, “Unless you’re into that sort of thing in which case I’d be more than happy to make you scream until your throat is raw.” 

John wanted nothing more than to free himself from Moriarty’s grip. He wanted nothing to do with the psychopath and yet if he tried anything else Moran wouldn’t miss next time. “What do you want from me?” 

Moriarty turned John around to face him. He lifted the knife to John’s cheek, lightly caressing him with it. “It’s not that I want from you, Johnny, as much as I want to own you.” He let the knife trail down the front of John’s chest and down to his stomach. “I want to get to know every inch of you both mentally and physically. I want to listen to your screams until your throat bleeds. I want to fuck you into submission and only make sure I’m the only one that will ever get touch you.” Moriarty licked his lips with his pupils blow wide with desire over his words for the good doctor. He wanted to bring John Watson to his knees. “I want to be your very best nightmare, Johnny boy. The kind that wakes you up screaming and crying and no amount of comfort can help you unless it only comes from me.” 

“No, I won’t let you take him,” Sherlock growls deep. He wants to break Moriarty in two but the gun presses against the back of his neck, a warning not to move. 

Moriarty looks over John’s shoulder, smiling down at Sherlock he laughs, “You won’t let me? Oh Sherlock, you can’t stop me as much as you like to think you can. Johnny is mine and the sooner you accept that the happier I’ll be.” 

Sherlock ignored Moriarty’s ratings and locked his gaze on to John’s. “I will never rest until I find you, John. I will rip this world apart if I have to but I promise you I’ll never stop looking.” 

“Don’t make promises you don’t intent to keep, Sherlock,” Moriarty retorted, sounding bored. “Besides we both know you’ll only find him if I want you too.” Moriarty turned his head and sucked hard on John’s neck. John flinched back causing Moriarty to chuckle. “You’ll come to love being with me, pet. I’ll make sure of it. Pain and pleasure go hand in hand.” Moriarty grabbed onto John’s hand and started to pull him towards the door. 

“Jim, I will bring hell down on your world. I swear it,” Sherlock snarled. 

Moriarty stopped and looked back at the consulting detective. He narrowed his eyes and then smiled big. “No, impossible.” 

Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “What?” 

“Of course, why didn’t I see it before? It makes so much sense,” Moriarty said, releasing John’s hand as he clapped his own together once. He stepped forward and spun around like a child excited about a present. When he stopped he was looking at Sherlock and said, “You’re in love with him. Oh, this just too fantastic.” He took another step closer to Sherlock. “A sociopath that explains he is married to his work but come to find out perhaps the ex-army doctor is his work…tell me, Sherlock, how does a man like you get turned on by a man like him?” 

“Sod off,” Sherlock snarled. 

John couldn’t breathe. The room felt like it was closing in on him and he just wanted out. _It can’t be. Sherlock doesn’t do feelings. It’s not true. It cannot be true,_ John told himself over and over in his mind. 

Moriarty turned to John and could see the conflict of emotions on the good doctor’s features. “What’s the matter, Johnny? Don’t you think you’re desirable?” Moriarty walked over to John and began to circle him like a predictor to its prey. “I think you’re very sexy, pet, and I’d love to show you how much I think so…” Moriarty stopped behind John and pulled him back into him. Moriarty thrusts his hips forward and coos, “I love to show you what you do to me over and over and over again.” 

John is trembling as he felt Moriarty’s half hard erection thrusting into him. He didn’t want to become Jim Moriarty’s personal fucking toy. There had to be some kind of way out of this. However, he knew there wasn’t. Moriarty was going to take him and that would be it. John wanted to look anywhere else in the room but instead he looked at Sherlock. He could see the anguish in his flat mate’s eyes. Sherlock wanted to do what he could to save John but the detective knew if Sherlock did anything at all Moran would fire the gun and that would be it. 

“Well, this has been fun but I think time is up. Wouldn’t you agree, Sebby?” Moriarty purred hugging John’s back into him. 

“Yes, sir,” Moran replied bluntly.

“That’s a good boy. You know what to do,” Moriarty gestured towards Sherlock before he grabbed John and started to pull him towards the door. 

“No, you said you weren’t going to kill him,” John pleaded as he started to struggle. 

“You’re right, Johnny, and Sebby isn’t going to kill him,” Moriarty huffed as he continued to pull John towards the door. “But, you take away his eyesight and what are you left with?” 

_Oh God, no!_ John thought as he fought to free myself. He watched in horror as Moran pulled out a knife from his boot and pressed it to Sherlock’s face. “No, you can’t. Please, don’t do this. Sebastian, please. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt him.” 

It was like a light bulb clicked on in Moriarty’s mind. “Sebby, wait. Don’t hurt him. Not yet.” 

John stopped the fighting the moment the knife was gently removed from Sherlock’s face. Instead Moran pulled out a small bottle from his pocket and poured the liquid out onto Sherlock’s scarf. He then forced it over Sherlock mouth and nose which the detective did his best to fight but within seconds he was out like a light. 

“What the hell, Moriarty?” John snapped as he rushed over to Sherlock’s limp body. 

“It suddenly accrued to me, Johnny, how compliant you are when poor little Sherlock here is being threatened.” Moriarty smiled deviously at John as he waved the knife around in his hand. “So, I thought why not just bring him with us.” 

John’s eyes grew wide with shock. “No,” he breathed out. “You can’t.” 

“Oh it has already been decided, pet,” Moriarty replied in a chipper manner. “Now, are you going to come peacefully or does Sebby need to chloroform you as well?” 

John liked having his wits about him but with Moriarty going back on his word, he’d be damned if he was going to make this easy on the criminal mastermind. He lunged at Moriarty and punched the man in the stomach before Moran grabbed him and pulled him away. Moriarty bent over in pain but instead of being angry like John thought the criminal would be Moriarty was laughing. “Good. Very good, Johnny boy, but I think it’s time to put a muzzle on you.” 

Moran placed his hand over John’s mouth and nose and squeezed John tight. John breathed in and his world started to fade. _NO!_ his mind screamed. This couldn’t be it. He had to fight but the drug soon carried him down into the darkness where the only thing he could hear was the sound of Moriarty’s laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This made my heart skip a beat when I wrote a certain part. You'll see what I mean. Enjoy.

When John awoke, all groggy and a coppery taste in his mouth, the first thing that came to mind was, _Is Sherlock alright?_ He sat up to discover he was laying on an ice cold concrete floor. There was a shackle cuffed around his left ankle that was anchored to the wall. When he looked around he saw that Sherlock was on the opposite side and still unconscious. He also did not have anything on but a pair of trousers. Many things raced through John’s mind. Sherlock could get hypothermia. Why was Moriarty doing this? What was the point of freezing them to death? 

Sherlock suddenly shivered which began to worry John. He didn’t want Sherlock to freeze. “Sherlock,” John said softly. 

The detective slowly stirred as he sat up. It seemed he was chained in the same manner John was with a shackle around his left ankle and anchored to the wall behind him. “John,” Sherlock said low. 

“Jesus Christ, Sherlock. You’re going to catch your death of cold,” John said concernedly. 

“I’ll be alright, John,” Sherlock replied. 

“Sherlock, you can’t honestly tell me that you'll be alright. You’re already shivering,” John said worriedly. 

“Very observant, John,” Sherlock stated flatly, rolling his eyes. 

John felt his cheeks get hot. He was angry because Sherlock was not taking this seriously. “You arrogant sack of…” 

“Well, well, well, trouble in paradise? Whatever shall we do about that…I wonder?” Moriarty purred as he stepped into view of the cage. 

John crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted to punch Sherlock in the face. Not to mention he wanted to rip Moriarty’s head off. What was it about him and surrounding himself with geniuses? “Sod off,” John snapped at Moriarty. He didn’t want to play any of Moriarty’s games. He’d rather be anywhere else but here. 

Moriarty held up a key and unlocked the door. He pulled it opened and stepped inside. “Don’t be like that, pet. Daddy can make it better if you like. All you need to do is ask.” 

John brought his knees up to his chest and placed his arms on top of them. He then rested his chin on his arms, trying his hardest not to look up at Moriarty. “Piss off,” John huffed.

Moriarty narrowed his eyes and snapped his fingers. Moran appeared at the criminal’s side within a blink of an eye. “Make it hurt, tiger,” Moriarty said to Moran. 

John’s head snapped up, eyes wide as he watched Moran walk over to Sherlock. “NO!” John screamed. He stood to his feet and rushed forward only for his chain to keep him from reaching Moran. “No, please. Don’t hurt him.” 

However, Moran didn’t stop. Sherlock started to scoot away and ended up trapped in the corner. Moran smiled down at him before blow after blow of the man’s steel toe boots connected with Sherlock’s ribs. 

Sherlock heard something crack. He was trying to block the blows but Moran kept going. Four, five, six times before Moriarty cleared his throat, a signal that forced Moran to back away. Sherlock was groaning slightly in pain, holding his stomach from being in excruciating amount of pain. He could tell that he had at least two broken ribs, three cracked and deep bruising. 

“You son of a…” John snarled at Moriarty but was cut off by the criminal. 

“What did I say, Johnny boy, about crude remakes?” Moriarty said bluntly. 

John snapped his jaw shut. Instead he glared at the master criminal fantasying about putting a bullet through the man’s head. 

Moriarty chuckled. “Good boy. Now, that I have your attention, pet, let’s see how far you’re willing to go.” 

John narrowed his eyes at the criminal. He wanted to tell the man to go to hell but he couldn’t risk Sherlock getting hurt again. Instead he asked, “What did you have in mind?” 

Moriarty giggled like a school girl. “That’s what I like to hear. Always the soldier, aren’t we pet? I like that. However, I will miss it when I finally break you.” 

“That’s never going to happen,” Sherlock hissed from the corner. 

Moriarty turned his attention to Sherlock. “Oh, and what makes you think it won’t?” 

“John is the bravest and strongest man I know,” Sherlock choked out. Breathing was rather a chore for him but he didn’t care. John needed to hear this. “He will not let you bring him down to your level, Jim. As much as you like to think you can.” 

John wished what Sherlock was saying was true. He could fight it but not forever. However, maybe Sherlock had a plan and he just needed to hold out just long enough for them to be rescued or for Sherlock to get them out of here. Take whatever Moriarty had planned for him. He could do it. All he needed to do was hold out long enough. 

“Everyone has a breaking point, Sherlock. Even Johnny boy and I will find it.” Moriarty’s phone suddenly went off. _Stayin’ Alive_ echoing off the cement walls, seemingly accurate for the situation they were in. Moriarty pulled out his phone and looked at it. He mouthed that he was sorry and answered the phone. “I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.” Moriarty listened for a moment and then laughed. “You’re adorable when you’re angry.” Moriarty laughed again and said, “I’ll be sure to give them your regards.” Moriarty hung up his phone and walked out of the cage with Moran close behind him. “Mycroft sounds positively livid. He has threatened to bring hell down on me just as you said, Sherlock. So, Daddy has something he has to do but don’t worry, Johnny. I’ll be back soon so we can get started.” He blew a kiss to John before Moran closed the door and the two vanished from sight. 

John stood there irate and frustrated. He hated this and the worst part was Sherlock was here. The man was in pain because of him. He sighed as he kept his back to Sherlock. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. If I would of just given in to him you wouldn't have broken ribs right now." 

Sherlock could see how much John was hurting. The doctor needed reassurance so Sherlock slowly stood on shaky legs. He slowly moved forward until the chain deny him to move any further. With one hand holding his ribs he reached out his other but John was just out of reach. "John, listen to me. This isn't your fault. It's mine. I was the one that taunted him. If anyone is to blame it would be me." 

"Jesus, Sherlock, you shouldn't be standing right now," John murmured, reaching out his arms. However, he was just out of reach of his flat mate. He frowned, wishing he could touch Sherlock. 

"And you shouldn't be blaming yourself for my idiocy,” Sherlock murmured. 

Both men just stared at each other until they smiled. “Look Sherlock, neither of us is to blame, alright? This is Moriarty’s doing. He should be the one to answer for this.” 

Sherlock nodded. “Agreed,” he said then suddenly began to cough. It hurt like hell but the look of concern on John’s face made Sherlock do his best to not show it on his face. “It’s only a couple broken ribs. They’ll heal.” 

John ran a hand over his face and gave Sherlock a pointed look. “Yeah, but what if I don’t give into him next time. What then? He is going to hurt you, Sherlock. I can’t let him.” 

Sherlock knew how much this is tearing John apart because it was doing the same to him. He didn’t want John to suffer for his mistakes. “And I can’t let him touch you.” 

John was taken back because that was not the response he was looking for. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again thinking about what he wanted to say but what he really should say. At this point it didn’t really matter, did it? “Sherlock, I…” 

“Well, that went better than expected,” Moriarty chimed in as the door to their cage opened. “I do believe I got my point across to your brother, Sherlock.” 

“What did you do, Moriarty?” John snarled. 

“Jim,” Moriarty said with a Cheshire cat grin. 

“What?” John asked slightly confused. 

Moriarty rolled his eyes and looked at Sherlock. “Honestly, Sherlock, what you see in him really isn’t his brains, is it?” 

“Sod off,” John growled. 

“Rude,” Moriarty huffed as he walked forward to John. “I could always call Sebby back in here. I’m sure he’d love to use your precious detective as a punching bag.” 

John stood his ground as Moriarty walked over to stand before him. He wanted to punch Moriarty in the man’s perfect teeth but for Sherlock’s sake he refrained. “I’m sorry,” John replied bitterly. 

“Sorry, what?” Jim asked. 

John hesitated for only a second before he said, “I’m sorry, Jim.” 

“That’s better,” Moriarty smirked as he patted John’s cheek, “Such a good little doggie.” 

John wanted to bite Moriarty’s hand but instead he asked, “What did you do about Mycroft?” 

“Oh, yes that,” Moriarty said as he removed his hand. “I blew up New Scotland Yard.” 

John and Sherlock looked at each other with horror. All those people and their minds went to Greg Lestrade. “No,” John whispered as he stumbled back. It couldn’t be true.

Moriarty closed the distance between John and himself and asked, “Well, I must be off but before I go, how about giving Daddy a kiss?”

John turned his gaze up to look at the cold soulless eyes staring back at him. How could this lunatic expect him to do anything after doing something so horrific? He wanted to tell the man to go to hell but that would only result in Sherlock getting hurt. Then he glanced over at Sherlock and realized his flat mate was staring daggers at Moriarty. It helped a little but not enough. 

“I’m waiting, Johnny,” Moriarty said with an edge in his tone. 

John heard it and knew that the man was getting annoyed with him. So, John had to go through with it. He leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips to Moriarty’s. However it wasn’t enough. Moriarty wrapped his arms around John and pulled the doctor’s body against his as the criminal ravished John’s mouth. It was sloppy and messy but it was meant more as a show than anything else. After another moment Moriarty pulled away giving John’s bottom lip a bite hard enough it drew blood. He sucked at it forcing John to hiss out in pain before fully pulling away. 

“Thank you, pet,” Moriarty purred as he smiled at him. “That was lovely.” 

John felt like he was going to be sick. However, he couldn’t do that with Moriarty watching him. It would be a sign of weakness and he couldn’t let that happen. He was a soldier and he needed to stand strong against this madman. 

Moriarty looked over at Sherlock and smiled at him. “Now, I’m starting to understand why you kept him around.” 

Sherlock was glaring at the Moriarty. “I’m going to kill you nice and slow.” 

Moriarty laughed. “How very optimistic of you but with no Calvary to come rescue you it seems I’ve won.” 

“How perfectly naive of you, Jim,” Sherlock retorted, “Because as long as I’m still breathing I will find a way.” 

“I’m sure you will, Sherlock,” Moriarty replied as he looked back at John. The doctor’s lip was still bleed so he reached out with his middle finger and wiped some of the blood away. He brought it up to his mouth and sucked it off while humming in the back of his throat. Moriarty looked back at Sherlock and said, “I’m sure you will.” He turned and walked out of the cage, shutting it behind him and leaving a rather befuddled John and an irate Sherlock behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know if you did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter shook me to my core. It was making my heart race while writing it so I do hope it does the same to you. Enjoy.

Mycroft stood in the sitting room of 221B. Looking around he saw that Sherlock’s coat was gone but John’s coat and shoes were still by the door. There was blood on Sherlock’s chair and on the floor, along with a bullet hole in the wall next to the door way of the kitchen. 

“Sir,” Andrea said, looking up from her phone. “The cameras didn’t catch any of it.” 

“Of course they wouldn’t,” Mycroft replied bitterly. “He wanted to make sure we couldn’t follow them.” 

“He, sir?” 

“Moriarty,” Mycroft growled. “He came in and took them. Why, I don’t know. It seems Sherlock was sitting in his chair and there was a gun pointed at his head. There isn’t a lot of blood so perhaps it was just a warning shot. But, why? What was Moriarty after?” It didn’t make sense to him. What was the point in shooting Sherlock when the madman’s fixation was solely on his little brother? 

“Sir, I found something.” 

Mycroft turned to a man that was about 6’4, with short blonde hair and wearing a black suit that looked a little big on him. “What it is, Daniels?” 

Daniels walked over and handed Mycroft a note with his name on it. Mycroft opened it up and felt his blood boil. The note read, 

_I wasn’t here for your brother, Iceman, I was here for Johnny boy. However, I’ve come to realize that my dear sweet doctor is more compliant when Sherly’s life is on the line. So, I took them both. However, I will give you a choice. You can save them or you can save the lives of many. Here is my number. Hope to hear from you soon. xoxo Moriarty_

Mycroft pulled out his phone and dialed the number at the bottom of the note. 

Moriarty picked up and cooed, “I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.” 

“You listen to me you worthless piece of shit. I’m going to bring hell down on you if you do not release them,” Mycroft snarled. 

Moriarty laughed as he said, “You’re adorable when you’re angry.” 

“I mean it, Moriarty. I will make sure you will die a slow and horrible death.” 

Moriarty laughed again and said, “I’ll be sure to give them your regards.” Then the man was gone. 

Mycroft was fuming. He wanted to find Moriarty and just shoot the man in the head to end all of this. He was pacing back and forth when his phone began to ring again. He looked at the caller ID that read “Blocked Number,” so he answered it and placed it to his ear. 

“Sorry, to hang up on you but your brother was being bad so he needed to be punished,” Moriarty said in a sing-song manner. 

“Let them go,” Mycroft snarled, gripping his phone hard enough that his fingers were turning white. 

“Uh, no,” Moriarty retorted. “I have a better idea. How about you choose?” 

“I’m not going to play your game, Moriarty,” Mycroft snapped. 

“Then he’ll die,” Moriarty said casually. 

“You can’t kill my brother…” 

“Who said anything about your brother?” 

Silence. 

“That’s better,” Moriarty mused. “You have already wasted precious time, Iceman. I do hope that you warn him in time.” 

“What are you talking about?” Mycroft demanded. 

“Honestly, Mycroft. The thing about secrecy is that I own it. Right about now he is going to open my gift that will celebrate the happiness of your time together. It’s going to be a real bang. Ta-ta.” Moriarty said as he hung up. 

Mycroft’s heart felt like it stopped. Fear over took him as he pulled the phone away from his ear and dialed Greg’s number… _Please, for the love of God, pick up the phone,_ Mycroft pleaded in his mind. He turned and rushed out the door to his car. “To Scotland Yard,” Mycroft parked out. There had to be enough time. _Please, let him live._

****  
Greg was sitting at his desk and willing his phone to chime. He’d been trying to contact Sherlock and John all morning but neither of them had responded to his messages. He expected out of Sherlock of course but John usually replied right away. Something didn’t feel right and he felt an urge to go over and check on them. Just to make sure they were alright. 

Suddenly Donovan appeared at his door and said, “Sir, you need to come right now. There’s been a murder at St. Pancras International.” 

Greg stood and followed Donovan out of his office when he bumped into another uniform officer carrying a parcel for him. It was in a big gift box with a red bow on top. 

“Sir, this came for you,” Officer Higgs said.

Greg smiled when he saw the letter M on the card. He wanted to open it right then and there but he dare not sense Donovan was waiting for him at the elevator. “Just put it on my desk.” 

“Yes, sir,” Officer Higgs replied as he walked into Greg’s office. 

Greg turned and was headed for the elevator when his phone began to ring. He saw that it was from Mycroft and smiled as he stepped on the elevator with Donovan and Anderson. “Now, I thought we weren’t at the stage of…” 

“It’s not from me. It’s from Moriarty. Get out of there. Whatever you do just get out,” Mycroft spat out. 

“Oh, Christ,” Greg breathed out and just as the elevator doors closed the bomb went off, shaking the whole building. Greg, Anderson and Donovan fell to the ground as the elevator dropped two stories. The emergency lights and breaks kicked on and stopped it from dropping completely. Greg looked up to see that the other two were mostly alright. Anderson’s wrist looked broken from jamming it into the floor as he tried to save Donovan from hitting her head. “Are you to alright?” 

“Yeah, aside from Anderson’s wrist being broken,” Donovan replied shakily. “What the hell was that?” 

“It was a bomb,” Greg replied bitterly. “It seems it was from our not so friendly neighborhood criminal Moriarty.” 

Anderson and Donovan’s eyes grew wide. “What the fuck? He was trying to kill us?” Anderson snapped. 

Greg shook his head. “No, he was trying to kill me.” Greg then remembered his phone. He looked around and saw that it had been busted. “Shit.”

“What?” Donovan asked. 

He bet down and picked up his phone. “My phone broke. Mycroft was trying to warn me about the bomb,” Greg muttered. He felt so horrible because all those men and women dead because of him. He threw his phone against the wall out of anger. 

“Greg, there wasn’t a damn thing you could have done to stop this,” Donovan said softly. 

“Yeah, this isn’t your fault,” Anderson added. 

“Then why does it feel like it is?” Greg snapped. He covered his face with his hands and just wanted to disappear. If Moriarty sent him a bomb and Mycroft tried to warn him then it meant that the madman knew about their relationship. This really was his fault. “We need to figure out a way to get out of here.” 

“Well, with Anderson’s wrist broken, while trapped in a burning building and no one knows we are alive in here, what do you have in mind?” Donovan scoffed. 

“We will find a way,” Greg replied, as he started to look around the elevator. “We need to survive this.” _I’m not going out like this. I refuse to die,_ Greg thought to himself. He wanted to hold Mycroft again. To kiss the man’s lips every night when before falling asleep and every morning when he woke so this couldn’t be it. He moved towards the door and tried to pull it open. It was working just a little bit but he wasn’t strong enough by himself. He looked to the other two and said, “You two try to pull this side open and I will pull on this side.” 

“But I have a broken wrist,” Anderson whined. 

“You still have a good one and Donovan can help. Now, do as I say,” Greg parked at them. 

Anderson and Donovan did as they were told and moved over to the door. They began to pull as Greg pulled on the other door. With the team effort they got it open. It seemed they were in between floors because the door to get out was just above them. 

“Well, that’s just great,” Anderson huffed. “Now, what oh fearless leader?” 

Greg glared at him. “Sherlock’s right. You are an idiot.” 

Anderson glared back but said nothing else. 

Greg turned and looked up knowing it was going to be a challenge to open the door but they had to try. “Okay, I need you two to help me up so I can try and pry the door open.” 

“What makes you think you can if you needed our help to get this one open?” Donovan scoffed. 

“Well, I could always bang on it and see if anyone is on the other side to help try to pry it open,” Greg spat back at her. 

“Fine,” Donovan huffed. 

They helped lift Greg to the door and he began to bag on it as he shouted, “Hello! Is someone out there? Help us!” 

“It doesn’t seem to be working,” Anderson groaned. “And my wrist is killing me.” 

“Just hang on a little longer,” Greg encouraged. “Someone help us!” 

Suddenly they heard from the other side of the door, “Hello?” 

“Yes, this is Inspector Gregory Lestrade. Can you help us?” Greg shouted back. 

There was no other answer and Greg started to worry that maybe something happened until the doors started to open. Anderson and Donovan lowered Greg down and they three just stared up in silence. “Good to see you’re alright, sir,” Officer Beck said. His face was covered in black ash. 

“You as well, Beck,” Greg replied before turning to Donovan. “Alright, you first Sally.”

“But, sir,” Donovan frowned. 

“Do as I say,” Greg commanded. 

Without anything further said Donovan reached up her hand for Beck to take. Greg helped push her up and within seconds she was out. 

Greg turned to Anderson and said, “Alright, you next, Anderson.” 

Just then there was a sound of one of elevator cable snapping, forcing it to drop slightly. 

“Oh God, we’re going to die,” Anderson shouted. 

“Shut up!” Greg snapped. “Reach for his hand, Anderson.” 

Anderson moved quickly and reached up for Beck and Donovan to pull him up. Greg helped by pushing him up and Anderson was out. Suddenly another wire broke and the elevator dropped another inch. 

Donovan reached out and said, “Take my hand, Greg.” 

Greg closed his eyes. He only had one shot at this before he fell to his death. _You can’t let that son of a bitch win because if you die he has won,_ Greg heard in his head. With a deep breath he moved and jumped. Beck and Donovan grabbed hold and quickly began to pull. Greg was using his feet on the side of the wall to help them pull himself up. Just as the last wire snapped they pulled Greg out just as he pulled his foot to safety, the elevator dropped and shook the building to its core. 

Donovan was hugging Greg tight so he whispered, “It’s alright, Sally. I’m fine.”

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Donovan whispered in return. 

Greg smiled as he replied. “Come on. We need to get out of here.” 

They all stood and looked around. Greg couldn’t believe his eyes. There was fire and chaos all around him. The floor from above had broken through to this level and people were trying to free others from the rubble. Greg walked over and found a woman trying to lift a support beam off of another officer. It was the officer’s wife who was meeting him to go to lunch that day because it was their tenth anniversary. Greg and Beck helped lift the beam as Donovan and the wife pulled the officer from out under it. The officer was doing his best not to scream in pain but Greg could see that his left leg was badly hurt to the point it might need to be amputated. 

“Help them,” Greg told Beck. “I’m going to look around for anyone else.” 

Beck nodded, picking up the officer and walked with his wife to the stairwell. 

Greg began to look around and noticed a few and rushed over to them. However, they were already dead. He knelt down beside them and closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” Greg whispered softly. He turned when he felt a hand on his should. It was Donovan. 

“Sir, you can’t blame yourself for this. Moriarty is the man to blame so we need to get out of here so we can find the bastard and end him once and for all,” Donovan growled. 

Greg nodded as he slowly stood. “You’re right. Let’s go.” 

The three of them turned and headed for the stairwell. It took them weaving around fire and crawling over and around different obstacles to finally make their way outside. There Greg stood in the middle of all the madness of the people he called his family either dead, badly injured or helping those that were. He couldn’t believe it. Somehow it didn’t seem real and yet there he stood in the middle of a war zone. 

Suddenly Greg was grabbed by the arm and he was about to tell them off when he saw it was Mycroft. Instead they embraced each other. “Mycroft,” Greg breathed. 

“Christ, I’m so glad you’re alright,” Mycroft said softly. 

Greg pulled back and huffed, “But, I’m not alright. I’m pretty far from fucking alright, Mycroft. Look what this madman has done. He blew this place up because of me. Why? Why did he target me?” 

“Because he knows about us,” Mycroft replied softly. “He did this because he has Sherlock and John and wanted to make a point that if I try anything further more people will die.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Greg breathed. He ran a hand through his hair trying to wrap his head around that. “He just expects us to sit on the sidelines while he has them?” 

Mycroft nodded. “I do believe he does.” 

“Are we?” Greg whispered. 

“No,” Mycroft replied back. 

“Good, let’s get to it then,” Greg said as he walked towards Mycroft’s car. 

However, Mycroft stopped him. “I can’t let you.” 

Greg frowned. “Why not?” 

“Because…I can’t lose you if I…if I lose Sherlock,” Mycroft said softly, turning his gaze away from the DI. 

Greg placed a hand under Mycroft’s chin and lifted his gaze to meet his own. “You won’t.” 

“But, I almost did,” Mycroft said, pointing at the building that was currently on fire. 

“Mycroft, this is John and Sherlock we are talking about. Do you think I can just sit idly by while you try to find a way to rescue them from Moriarty? After everything that madman has done, I need to be there when you take him down.” Greg could see Mycroft was having trouble with letting him come but Greg needed this. The psychopath just murderer many of his colleagues and friends which meant one way or another Moriarty was going down. 

Finally, Mycroft said, “Alright but you must listen to me. No going off grid. Understand?” 

“Yes, sir,” Greg said, smiling up at Mycroft. 

Mycroft smiled back before they turned and headed for his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to know what you think about this chapter. Let me know with a comment. Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter. The feels. Sorry not sorry.

John was sitting with his back against the wall with his knees up to his chest and his arms around them to try and keep warm. His thoughts were focused on Greg and on Scotland Yard. All those people dead or badly injured because of him. If he would have just gone with Moriarty then this wouldn’t have happened. Sherlock wouldn’t be here either, John thought to himself. He felt concerned for Sherlock, however. The detective was seated with his back to the wall and shivering. With no shirt on John could see the bruises on Sherlock’s stomach from Moran’s boots and they didn’t look good. He wished he could examine them to make sure he didn’t have any internal bleeding. 

“Stop that,” Sherlock muttered softly. 

John frowned. “Stop what?” 

“You’re making the face,” Sherlock murmured. 

“What face? What are you talking about, Sherlock?” John huffed. 

“You’re trying to examine me from where you sit. Wondering how badly I’m actually hurting and if there is any real damage like internal bleeding,” Sherlock replied. 

John just stared at Sherlock and then rested his chin on his arms. “I’d try to argue but I know it would be pointless.” 

“Indeed, it would be,” Sherlock replied. 

There was a moment of silence before John said, “Look Sherlock, I want to tell you something and if I don’t say it now I don’t think I will ever get the chance.” John took a deep breath and said, “I am rather fond of you. I’ve tried not to be but sometimes you just…Christ, why is this so hard?” 

“John, whatever it is I want you to save it because I promise you we are going to get out of this,” Sherlock said, staring into John’s eyes. He loved how those blue orbs just stared back into his own. The trust, the hope, and the longing, it broke Sherlock’s heart that even if he wasn’t going to make it that he wanted to make sure John did. His heart needed to beat on. 

John smiled as sad smile at Sherlock. He knew that the detective was only trying to comfort him for what was about to transpire here but in all fairness it wasn’t working. He opened his mouth to speak when Moriarty came around the corner and interrupted him. 

“Well, it seems the time has come for our first little lesson in friendship,” Moriarty said as he opened the door, “And the dangers there of.” He walked over to John, smiling down at him with a sadistic look on his face. “Stand up, pet.” 

John did not hesitate this time because he didn’t want anything else to happen to Sherlock. However, all that changed the moment he saw Moran at the open door. “Don’t,” John said softly. It was more a plea then it was a demand. 

Moriarty lifted his hand to John’s face and lightly caressed the doctor’s cheek. He looked into John’s eyes and saw the fear behind them. It would miss that. “Sebby, take our guest to his special chair.” 

John watched in horror as Moran walked over to Sherlock and unchained him. Sherlock looked as though he was ready to fight back but a red light suddenly appeared on his chest. John turned to Moriarty and hissed, “If you kill him…” 

“Don’t worry, Johnny boy. Do you really think he is stupid enough to try to fight Sebby in his state?” Moriarty asked. John snorted which made Moriarty frown. “Good point. However, I don’t think he’d do something so foolish because that means with him dead I get you all to myself.” Moriarty turned and smiled at Sherlock. “I don’t think you want that, do you, Sherlock?” 

“Why just remove the dot and find out,” Sherlock snarled. 

“Ooo, someone’s got a little bite,” Moriarty giggled. “I do hope you last.” 

With that Moran placed a black bag over Sherlock’s head so he couldn’t see where he was going and pushed Sherlock out the door and out of sight. Which left Moriarty and John alone in a cell together and John still chained up so he couldn’t go anywhere. 

_Just breath,_ John kept reminding to himself. Whatever was about to happen John just wished he could fight instead of being pliant like Moriarty wanted him to be. Sure he was in the army and he followed orders but that was different then what Moriarty wanted of him. This maniac was going to break him. 

Moriarty turned to John and moved in close so their bodies were touching. “All of this could stop if you just give into me. Just be a good boy, Johnny, and Daddy will make it all better.” 

John felt like clawing out of his own skin where Moriarty was touching him. He wished he could be in a hot shower right now and just scrub himself raw. “Go to hell,” John hissed. He knew it was a mistake the moment Moriarty’s eyes narrowed on him. But, he had to trust Sherlock to have a plan. Otherwise if he gave in to soon it could never be undone.

“Very well,” Moriarty said as he stepped back. 

Moran appeared and unlocked John’s chain. He placed a black bag over John’s head and walked him out of the cell. It had only taken a few steps when Moran pushed John to sit down in a chair. Moran began to strap John to the chair by his wrists and ankles. Soon the back was lifted from his head and there he sat staring at Sherlock who was in the predicament as he was. 

“Well, boys, I must say you never disappoint. The things people do for _love,_ ” Moriarty said the last word as he wrinkled his nose like it left a bad taste in his mouth just by saying it. “How ordinary of you,” he said looking at Sherlock. “But, no matter because what I’m going to do now is make Johnny here hate the sight of you.” 

Sherlock never knew fear like he did right now. To think that Moriarty could do such a thing was beyond anything his mind could wrap around. John was his best friend…his only friend. So, the thought of losing John scared him. But, when he spoke he kept any fear out of his tone because it would be a sign of weakness that the spider would feed from. “You’re delusional, Jim.” 

“No, just optimistic,” Moriarty retorted. 

Sherlock snorted. 

Moriarty chuckled. “Oh, you don’t think it’s possible?” 

“You could never force John too….” Sherlock was suddenly cut off when Moran walked over to John and cut open his shirt. He then walked over and pulled up and machine next to John. “No,” Sherlock breathed. 

Moran took what looked like little heart monitors pads and placed two on John’s chest and two on his stomach. He then placed a brown leather headband on John’s head that had wires trailing down from it and wired into the machine. 

John knew what this was and he looked at Sherlock trying not to panic because panicking would only make this worse. 

Moriarty stepped behind Sherlock and leaned in close to the detective’s ear. “You’re precious John is mine.” 

Sherlock pulled his head to the side and as hard as he could he flung it into Moriarty’s face. Moriarty stumbled back as Moran rushed over and grabbed Sherlock around the throat, squeezing to cut off his air. 

“No, stop!” John shouted as he tried to struggle out of his restraints, even with how pointless it was.

Moriarty pulled his hand away from his lip and saw he was bleeding. His soulless eyes focused on Sherlock. “Sebby, release him.” As Moran back away Sherlock coughed air back into his lungs. It hurt with the broken ribs he already had. Moriarty’s lip curled into a snarl as he stood now before Sherlock. “Cute but it’s not going to stop this from happening.” Moriarty turned on his heel and now was facing John. “Sherlock is not your friend, Johnny. I am. He’s never been kind to you or said anything remotely nice, has he?” 

John couldn’t help it. He just started to laugh. “Really? This is your plan? To talk me into hating him?” 

Sherlock felt a twinge of pride swell up in his chest. It was reassurance that John was still trying to fight on. _You can fight him, John. Please, don’t give up hope,_ Sherlock thought. 

Moriarty walked over and knelt down in front of John. His hand reached up and started to rub John’s thighs. “Something like that,” Moriarty smirked. “But, I find that this way helps to train doggies a lot easier.” Moriarty stood and moved over to the machine. His reached out and grabbed onto a switch. “Look at Sherlock, Johnny.” 

John felt his world stop. He finally understood. Slowly he turned his gave to Sherlock’s and heard Moriarty said, “Sherlock is not your friend, Johnny.” 

Then there was a surge of pain like nothing he’d ever experienced before. His body seized as he screamed in pain although he doesn’t recall making a sound. It felt as though his body was on fire with a numbing and tingling sensation. John wanted it to stop and suddenly it was over. He was breathing hard while trying to gain his senses back. His body hurt like hell and he moaned from the pain. Just then he felt a hand on his cheek and on impulse he leaned into the touch. 

“That’s right, Johnny boy. Jim’s going to make it better for you,” Moriarty said softly. 

John suddenly looked up and focused on Moriarty’s face. The maniac was smiling down at him it almost looked sincere enough but John was no fool. He jerked his head away and hissed, “Fuck you.” 

Moriarty smiled as he pulled away and walked back over to the machine. “Sherlock is not your friend, Johnny.” Moriarty flipped the switched and watched as John’s body seized once more. “This is because of Sherlock Holmes. He is causing you this pain and he is enjoying watching you suffer, Johnny.” 

John hated he could hear Moriarty over his screams but once it stopped he closed his eyes and tried to collect himself again. It was hard. The pain was much more intense the second time. Finally he looked up and saw Sherlock’s eyes staring back at him. The man hadn’t said one word to make Moriarty stop. Why wasn’t he trying to convince Moriarty to stop?

“He wants to watch you suffer, Johnny boy,” Moriarty said as he placed his hands on John’s shoulders. 

John flinched slightly but relaxed as Moriarty began to massage him. It felt good to his aching muscles and he briefly wondered if Moriarty would do more. Suddenly he shook his head of such a thought. _This is Moriarty after all. Sherlock is your friend. Stay strong,_ John thought. 

“Sherlock, why don’t you tell, Johnny, here how much you enjoy watching him in pain?” Moriarty murmured softly. 

John focused his gaze on Sherlock and the way Sherlock was staring back at him made John feel…

“It’s true, John. All of it and I can’t wait for him to flip that switch so I can watch as your body fills with pain,” Sherlock muttered, his face stone cold. 

“Sherlock, I…” 

“Just shut up, John! Christ, everything out of your mouth since the moment I met you has proven to just be entertaining. Nothing more,” Sherlock spat out. 

John began to tear up. “I don’t believe you.” 

“Of course not because you’re an idiot,” Sherlock snapped. 

“Shut up!” John shouted. 

Sherlock laughed. “Or what? It’s not like you can kill me. I have you wrapped about my pinky just like any faithful dog.” 

“You fucking bastard,” John snarled. 

“I’m not the bastard, John,” Sherlock snarled. 

Suddenly John was feeling pain again but this time his mind was filled with nothing but Sherlock’s hurtful words. He was angry and pain all because of Sherlock. Then it stopped and John was crying. He just wanted the pain to stop. 

Moriarty moved in front of John and said, “Oh, Johnny, I’m so sorry.” He turned to Moran and said, “Get that piece of shit out of my sight.”

Moran walked over to Sherlock and released him from his binds. He forced Sherlock to his feet and placed the black back over his head. Moran walked Sherlock just a few feet before he stopped and heard Moriarty whispered, “Bravo, Sherlock.” 

“Go to hell,” Sherlock snarled. 

Moriarty giggled, “You did so well. It seems Molly and Mrs. Hudson get to live another day.” Moran pushed Sherlock out the door leaving John and him alone. 

Moriarty returned back at John’s side and began to remove the little pads from off of his chest. “I’m truly sorry, Johnny. I had no idea Sherlock could be such a beast.” He moved around behind John and removed the leather band. “Some friend,” Moriarty scoffed, pushing the machine away. He walked back around and began to remove John’s restraints. “But, I can be so much more for you. Whatever you need, Johnny, I’m here for you.” 

John’s body felt sore and he wasn’t for sure he could stand on his own. He hated asking for help because it was a sign of weakness but right now he really couldn’t do anything for himself. “Jim…I – I can’t move.” 

“I understand,” Moriarty replied as he began to massage John’s legs. 

John began to moan as he tilted his head back and closed it eyes. It felt incredible. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it, pet?” Moriarty purred. 

“Yes,” John breathed out. 

“I’m so glad,” Moriarty said as he continued to massage John’s aching muscles. After a few minutes past John felt Moriarty stop so he opened his eyes and looked to see that Moriarty was standing. “I think were done here.” 

Moran appeared and helped John to his feet. John was frowning at Moriarty and said, “Did I do something wrong?” 

“No,” Moriarty said as he moved close to John and kissed the doctor’s forehead. “It’s not time yet.” 

John felt confused and wanted to ask Moriarty further on what he meant but at that moment Moran placed the black bag over John head. The next thing John saw was the detective lying down in their cell with his back facing John. Moran walked out and closed the door behind him without a word spoken. John wanted to say something to Sherlock but the words of what he said mixed with the pain came flooding back to him mind. John grabbed the sides of his head and just wanted the pain to stop. 

“John,” Sherlock said softly. However, John wasn’t listening so Sherlock shouted, “John!” Finally, the doctor looked up and met Sherlock’s gaze. “John, I didn’t realize what he was planning to do.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” John huffed out, pulling his legs up to his chest. It seemed this made him feel safe. At least it was the only thing keeping him in once piece without falling apart. 

“But, it does matter. You matter, John,” Sherlock murmured. “I’ve been such a fool, John. Not seeing what was right in front of me this whole time. My heart was ripping apart to say anything as horrible as I did to you. I care about you. Please, believe that.” 

John closed his eyes. The pain was a lot less sense Moriarty help rub out his pain. “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” John whimpered softly. 

There was a moment of silence before Sherlock said, “For what it’s worth, John. I’m sorry.” 

When John opened his eyes Sherlock was laying back down with this back to him. John wanted to say something to him but instead he just lay down and closed his eyes. He felt so very tired and just wanted this end. Hopefully it would soon either with someone rescuing them or a bullet to the brain. Because the thought of Moriarty keeping him, breaking him down and building him back up was frightening him to be point he was starting to welcome it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me to much. I hope you enjoyed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoy this chapter. It is very dark. Just to let you know. 
> 
> Let me know if you liked this with a comment below. It will help me out with what I do next.

When John awoke Sherlock was gone. His brow furrowed as he sat up wondering where his flat mate vanished too. 

“Hello, Johnny,” Moriarty purred from the other side of the closed door. 

“Where’s Sherlock’s?” John demanded as he flinched slightly at saying Sherlock’s name. Why did that happen? 

Moriarty smiled big. “He’s around here somewhere. Would you like to go see?” 

John slowly stood to his feet still a little shaky on his legs. “Yes,” he replied softly. 

Moriarty opened the door and slid inside. “Yes, what?” 

John closed his eyes, hating that he had to play along. “Yes, Jim,” he said as he opened his eyes. 

Moriarty was standing before him with dark lust filled eyes like a predator to its prey. “Good boy,” Moriarty replied as he bent down and unlocked John’s cuff. He stood back up and pulled a black bag from inside his suit jacket. “Do as I say and not as I do.” 

John just stood there and let Moriarty place the black bag over his head. The criminal walked him out and this time they walked a little further than before. Suddenly Moriarty made him stop. 

“Lift your arms, Johnny,” Moriarty said with a little edge in his tone. 

John did as he was instructed and lifted his arms. He felt cuffs clamp over his wrists and then the bag was removed. When John’s eyes adjusted to the light he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sherlock was naked and bound to a melt table. “What the fuck is this?” 

Moriarty walked over to Sherlock and lightly trailed his fingers tips up Sherlock’s bare leg. Sherlock bucked his leg to force Moriarty to stop touching him but the criminal just dug his nails into Sherlock’s skin making the detective bite back a whimper. “You see, Johnny, this is the next lesson. I did say pain and pleasure go hand and hand, if you recall.” 

“How could this possible relate to that?” John snapped angrily. 

Moriarty removed his hand from Sherlock’s leg and walked over to John. “I’m so glad you asked. Sebby dear, won’t you join us please.” 

Moran appeared, pushing a cart with large melt container. Moriarty walked over and picked up a small silver device that almost looked like a holy water sprinkler expect it was a little more complex than that. “Tell me, Johnny, do you know what this is?” 

John shook his head and said, “No.” 

Moriarty turned to Sherlock and said, “I’m sure you know, don’t you, Sherlock? Why not enlighten dear sweet ignorant John.” 

Sherlock’s face remained impassive or as best he could. “It’s called a lead sprinkler. It was used roughly from the year 900, until it was banned at the start of the 1900s. The torturer poured molten lead, boiling oil or boiling water into one end and its contents slowly rushed to the other side where it would drip onto the victim’s stomach or other body parts such as their eyes.” 

“Good. Very good, Sherlock,” Moriarty cooed. “I must say you know your torture devices well.” He turned to John and said, “So, what do you think, Johnny. Where should Sebby begin? On his legs, his stomach or go straight for the eyes?” 

John felt panic. He didn’t want Sherlock to get hurt. Not like this. _Calm down and think, John,_ he heard a voice say within his mind. He turned his gaze up to meet Sherlock’s. John could see Sherlock was trying to steal himself because he knew how badly it was going to hurt. _What do I do?_ John shouted within his mind. 

Suddenly Moriarty’s voice broke through and said, “Times up, Johnny.” He handed the small device back over to Moran who lifted the lid off of the bucket. “Sebby, do as you…” 

“WAIT!” John shouted as Moriarty turned towards him. “Please, I…I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t.” 

Moriarty walked over to John and started to gently caress his cheek. “Dear sweet lovely Johnny boy. I’ll let you have a say but only where the oil drips and in exchange I’m going to jerk you off while you watch.” 

John wasn’t for sure he heard him right. Was the lunatic really suggesting that while he watched Sherlock wrath in bad that he was going to make him cum? “Jesus Christ,” John breathed, finally wrapping his head around what Moriarty had said before about pain and pleasure. He glared up at Moriarty and snarled, “You’re the devil.” 

Moriarty smiled wickedly as he replied, “And you’re a fallen angel here for me to de-feather. Now, what’s it going to be, pet? There are many places on Sherlock’s to be burned, so what would be the best for him? He’s already got broken ribs so that might be out. What about his arms or his legs?” 

John was trying to think rationally but with those dark soulless eyes staring at him so intently it was hard for the doctor to think. Finally, after a few moments John said, “Legs.” 

“Alright Sebby, you heard the good doctor,” Moriarty said as he moved around behind John. It made the doctor flinch but Moriarty pulled him back into his own body. “Don’t be afraid, Johnny. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to make you cum.” Moriarty slipped his fingers down into the waistband of John’s sweatpants and slowly pulled them down. To the criminal’s delight John wasn’t wearing any pants underneath. “Interesting,” he whispered into John’s ear. Next, he pulled a bottle of lube from his jacket pocket and popped open the cap. When he squirted a generous amount into his hand he slowly moved his hand around John’s front and took the doctor’s manhood into his hand. The doctor shivered at the cold touch and bucked as Moriarty began slow and steady strokes as he slowly thrust himself into John’s arse. “Can you feel how hard you make Daddy, Johnny? You please me so much.” 

Suddenly there was a scream that rang out, shaking John to his very core. His eyes went to Sherlock’s face as Moran was letting boiling oil drip down onto his flat mate’s left knee. John bucked and tried to struggle against Moriarty but the criminal was a lot stronger then he looked. “Please, stop it. Stop hurting him.” 

“Why because of how hard you are?” Moriarty whispered as he continued his steady strokes. “Admit it, you enjoy pain and you enjoy it when others are in pain. Just look at him when he arches his back. Mmm, I wondered how good he would feel around my cock. That tight virgin little pussy of his, can you just imagine it, Johnny?” 

John closed his eyes because he couldn’t watch anymore. But, the sound of Sherlock’s screams and what Moriarty was saying into this ear wasn’t making this any easier. He leaned his head back to rest it on Moriarty’s shoulder as the criminal continued to stroke him. 

“Oh, such a lovely sight it would be,” Moriarty cooed as Sherlock screamed again. He smiled when John shuddered in his embrace. “Oh, Johnny,” Moriarty said deeply. 

John couldn’t help a moan that escaped his lips. It was felt good and he wanted more even if he was going to hate himself letter. _You’re a sick little fuck,_ a voice snarled within John’s mind. He shook his head, wanting the voices to let him be. Then he heard Moriarty speaking again when brought him back into the moment of his current situation. 

“You’re use to fucking in the middle of a battlefield, aren’t you, Johnny? With your fellow soldiers taking turns as you bit your belt from screaming.” Moriarty began to speed up his pace which made John groan. “That’s right, Johnny. This is your battlefield now.” 

John held his eyes tightly closed as he heard Sherlock scream again. He couldn't for the life of him bring himself to look at how bad Sherlock was hurting. "I'm so sorry," he whispered softly. It was horrific and sick. And the worst part was John started to feel the heat pool in his lower stomach. 

"You have no reason to be sorry, pet," Moriarty cooed into his ear. He could feel John shifting and thrusting more into his hand and it pleased him how much John’s body wanted it even if his mind was trying to fight against him. "Mmm, Daddy's gonna take real good care of you." He sped up his pace and he could feel John's body tense against his. "Daddy will always take care of his Johnny boy." 

John shuddered at Moriarty’s words of comfort even though he knew it was all a lie. This was torture and rape. He was a doctor after all and he knew that his body couldn’t help it. However, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself. Sherlock let out another blood shattering scream and John began to shake. He was getting close with Moriarty’s hand moving faster now. It was only a matter of seconds. 

“That’s it, Johnny. Cum for Daddy,” Moriarty purred into his ear. 

John could feel his climax almost reaching its peak. Just a few more strokes and…

“Open your eyes, soldier,” Moriarty snapped. 

And John did. The moment he spilled his cum all over Moriarty’s hand he opened his eyes and was staring as Moran poured the hot boiling oil all over Sherlock’s legs. His best friend was screaming and shaking, pulling at his restraints as he looked back at John. 

In that moment time slowed down as both Sherlock and John just stared at each other. An unspoken promise to do whatever they could to make sure Moriarty burned in hell. 

Finally, Moriarty stepped into John’s view and blocking Sherlock completely as he said, “I thought about having you lick your own cum off my hand but then I thought why not let your precious Sherlock do it. He will finally see what he’s been missing all this time.” 

“Haven’t you made him suffer enough?” John growled, staring daggers at Moriarty. 

“Oh but, Johnny, we wouldn’t want to deny him, would we? After all this could be his one and only chance,” Moriarty replied with a devilish grin. 

“For fuck sake, let him be,” John begged with a silent tear running down his cheek. 

Moriarty stepped forward and with his clean hand he whipped the tear away. “Moran, take Sherlock back to the cell.” 

John watched in silence as Moran helped Sherlock up and slip on his sweatpants. Sherlock did not look at John as Moran magical placed a wheelchair behind Sherlock and wheeled him out. 

When they were gone Moriarty turned back to John and lifted his dry cum stained fingers to John’s lips. He began to rub John’s bottom lip and then pushed his finger into John’s mouth. “Lick it clean.” 

John didn’t want too. He wanted to go make sure Sherlock was alright but he knew Moriarty wouldn’t let him until he was done. So John began to lick at Moriarty’s finger, taking himself on the madman’s finger. 

Moriarty leaned forward and took his own thumb into his mouth, eyes locked onto John’s blue ones. Finally the madman pulled back and said softly, “You’re perfect, Johnny. Every inch of you, every dark little fantasy in that pretty little mind of yours, every moan, every lick of your tongue…I want to consume you.”

John’s eyes widened as he pulled back. “You’re insane,” John whispered back. _Oh God, what have I done? Sherlock was being tortured and I got off on it. I’m disgusting. Sherlock should hate me because I hate myself. He should never forgive me. I’m sick._ John felt like he wanted to be sick but he realized he hadn’t eaten sense breakfast the morning before. He wasn’t feeling quite right but now it didn’t matter. 

Moriarty smiled even bigger. “And you love it.” 

John shook his head. “No, I don’t. This is torture.” 

“Now, Johnny, don’t be like that. You came so hard all over my hand.” He stepped closer to John. “We both know Daddy is the only one that can please his Johnny boy.” 

“I’m not your Johnny boy!” John shouted in anger. “I’m not your anything, you sick freak!” 

Moriarty suddenly gripped onto John’s hair and snapped his head back. His eyes were hard and dark and if John wasn’t fully terrified just moment’s ago then he was now. “I would take this beating out on you but I think I’ll do it to your precious Sherlock. I’m sure he would take a few cuts of my knife,” Moriarty snarled low. 

“No, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” John trembled. 

“Maybe I should cut his ankles so he can’t run around London anymore,” Moriarty growled, a twisted smile on his face. “Yes, I think that might do just fine.” 

“No, please!” John begged. “I’m sorry.” _Christ, just say or he’s going to make sure Sherlock never walks again!_ John thought. It was the only thing that came to him and he hoped beyond hope it would work. “I’m so sorry…D – Daddy.” 

Moriarty suddenly froze. He looked at John unsure if he heard the doctor correctly. “What did you just say?” 

John took a deep breath and said, “I’m so sorry…D – Daddy.” 

Moriarty smiled at him. “Oh, Johnny boy,” the madman murmured. He slowly released John’s head and began to caress his cheek. “Does Johnny want to spend the night in Daddy’s bed?” 

John wanted to say no because he wanted to make sure Sherlock was alright. 

Moriarty could read the concern for Sherlock on John’s face and said, “I will have someone attends to Sherlock’s burns only if you agree. If not I will place you back in the cell, chaining you to your side and no one will help him.” 

John closed his eyes. He wanted to be the one to look over Sherlock but someone was better than no one. John looked at Moriarty and said, “You have a deal, D – Daddy.” 

“Excellent!” Moriarty said happily as he pulled out his cell phone from inside his jacket pocket. He typed something out that John couldn’t see and hit sent. “There now Moran has instructions to have our doctor look him over.” After he replaced his phone in his pocket, Moriarty began to unlock John’s chains. He grabbed onto John’s hand and said, “Now, you will do as I say or Sherlock will end up hurt. Do you understand, Johnny?” 

_Jesus Christ,_ John thought irritatingly. “Yes, D – Daddy, I understand.” 

“Good boy,” Moriarty began to walk and pulled on John’s hand to follow him. John hesitated because he was still half naked and didn’t want to walk around like this. “Come along, pet, I’ll show you to our room.” 

John closed his eyes and took a deep long breath in and out. _If you breaks me I want you to know that I believe in you, Sherlock. I always have and I always will._ He opened his eyes and followed Moriarty with a soul crushing feeling that he really wasn’t going to make it out of this in one piece. That the John Watson, ex-army doctor, that every one come to know and love would soon be just a memory of what once was and replaced as Moriarty’s finest creations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you enjoyed this chapter or not. It would help me out a lot. Thank you for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. It is a short chapter but the feels are there. Enjoy.

Greg stepped into Mycroft’s office wear the elder Holmes’s dark blue bathrobe while drying his hair with a towel. “Anything?” 

Mycroft was staring at his computer of the CCTV footage prior the explosion at the Yard. “Not as of…” Mycroft was cut off when he looked up to see Greg in his robe, his silver hair still dap and messy. Mycroft swallowed hard and turned his gaze quickly back to his computer screen. He cleared his throat and said, “Not yet, no.” 

Greg moved forward and came to stand next to Mycroft. He leaned down, one hand on the back of Mycroft’s chair and the other on the desk. The DI was looking at the screen as he said, “We need to search for someone carrying a parcel with a red bow on top.” 

Mycroft was trying to focus but the smell of his own aftershave on Greg was a little more of a distraction then he cared to admit too. “Parcel?” 

Greg furrowed his brow as he looked at Mycroft. He smiled when he realized what currently captured Mycroft’s attention. So he turned and sat up on the desk as he placed his right foot on the chair in between Mycroft’s legs and said, “Yes, Mycroft, the parcel from Moriarty that was sent to my office with the bomb in it.” 

Mycroft leaned back in his chair and did call he could to shallow the lump in his throat. “The bomb,” he murmured as he looked down at the foot between his legs. 

“Yes, the bomb that almost killed me,” Greg said softly as he started to lean forward. 

“I…uh…” Mycroft said as Greg was just a few inches away from his lips. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Greg huffed suddenly pulling away. 

Mycroft looked like a deer in headlights. “What?” 

Greg removed his foot and stood. “How can you think about sex at a time like this?” Greg turned and was about to walk away when Mycroft shot out, grabbing hold of Greg’s wrist. 

Mycroft pulled Greg into his lap and wrapped his arms around the DI even though he was struggling to free himself. “Because, you look so damn sexy in my robe,” Mycroft replied. 

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Greg retorted with a cheesy grin. 

“Nope, just you,” Mycroft replied as he leaned in and kissed Greg on the lips. 

Greg froze before he started to kiss him back. It was still new and exciting to him. Not only was he friends but he was also lovers to Mycroft Holmes. At first he wasn’t for sure if he could be but the more time he spent with the elder Holmes the more he realized how much they had in common. It wasn’t every day he went to see an action film but for Mycroft to tag along was something of a treat. Not to mention they made what little time they had the best of it. Greg was falling for him and he was slightly afraid. Because of reason like today it was an eye opener that when it comes to a Holmes your life is not longer yours. Greg suddenly pulled back and said, “We…uh…should get back to finding the perp.” 

Mycroft frowned but nodded. “Okay,” he said softly as he let Greg stand. “Maybe you should go get dress and I’ll keep looking.” 

Greg rubbed the back of his head. “Right, yeah. Good idea. I’ll be back in a moment.” 

Mycroft sighed as he watched Greg disappear from sight. He really wanted to just bend Greg over the desk and make him scream his name but the DI was right. Now, really wasn’t the time. “You’re such an idiot,” Mycroft said to himself. He wiped his hands over this face before turning back to his computer screen. 

As Mycroft steadied the screen there was an unmarked white van that pulled up to the front door. A man about 5’7 wearing a red and blue cap that had “London” written across it, a white t-shirt with a tan long sleeve shirt that was opened, blue jeans and tennis shoes, hopped out of the driver seat and walked around to the side of the van. Mycroft zoomed in and realized it was the same exact outfit Moriarty wore when he broke into the crown jewels. “That son of a bitch,” Mycroft snarled. He quickly brought up another screen and sent out a mass message to all his people to look for both. 

“What is it? Did you find something?” Greg asked as he walked back into the room. 

Mycroft hit the pause button and looked up to see that Greg was fully clothed now. He was wearing an ash colored suit with a white button down long sleeve shirt. It made his eyes pop. Mycroft shifted his thoughts as he pointed at the screen. “Moriarty believes this is some sick joke.” 

Greg walked forward and stood back at Mycroft side as both men looked at the screen. Mycroft hit play and when the man on the screen turned around Greg gasped. “Christ,” Greg breathed. They watched as the man picked up the gifted and walked into the station and about a minute later he walked back out and drove off never looking up at the camera. “Is this it then?” 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Mycroft replied bitterly. 

“This can’t be it. There has to be more,” Greg growled. 

“I’m sorry, Gregory, but this is all we have. I have my men searching for him and the van right now but until we find something more there isn’t anything I can do,” Mycroft said softly. 

“That’s not good enough,” Greg huffed as he walked towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” Mycroft demanded as he stood and followed after Greg. 

“Where do you think? I’m going to go do my job,” Greg snapped. 

Mycroft grabbed his arm and forced the DI to turn to face him. “Greg, Moriarty thinks you’re dead. I can’t have you going off and trying to find them on your own or you might end up dead for real.” 

Greg yanked his arm away. “Then what do you want me to do? Just sit here and do nothing? They are my friends, Mycroft. I can’t…” He voice choked so he turned his back so Mycroft couldn’t see his tears. “I can’t stop imagining what they must be going through right now. What Moriarty must be doing to them and I’m afraid. I’m afraid we’re going to lose them.” 

Mycroft stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Greg’s body while leaning his head against the DI’s back. “I know. I feel the worst for them and that is why I can’t let you leave.” He moved around to Greg’s front and cupped his head in his hands. “I told you we will work this together but I also must keep you safe. Please, Gregory. We are no help to them apart but together…” 

“Together we are stronger,” Greg said, cutting Mycroft off. He smiled at the elder Holmes who in returned smiled back. They embraced until they heard someone knock on the door. 

Anthea opened it and stuck her head in. “Sir, I think we might have found him.” 

“Good, tell them we’re on the way,” Mycroft said. 

Anthea looked slightly unhappy but said, “Very good, sir.” She disappeared from sight. 

Greg pulled back and asked, “You really want me to go?” 

“You told me you wanted to be there when we took Moriarty down. I took that as you wanted to be there through this whole ordeal,” Mycroft replied softly. “Unless I misunderstood.” 

“No,” Greg said a little too quickly. He cleared his throat, “No, I want to be there.” He paused another moment before adding, “Thank you, Mycroft.” 

“You’re welcome,” Mycroft replied as they turned and headed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I want to make this last a little longer that is why this chapter is short. Thank you for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I am really good at the feels. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading.

Sherlock was doing his best to look around the hall as Moran pushed him in the wheelchair. However, the pain from the burns was hard for him mind to contain any information required for escape. It would be pointless anyway because he wasn’t for sure he could even walk. 

“If it were up to me I’d just toss you back into the cage without being treated but sense Watson agreed to be my bosses little fuck toy I guess I have no choice,” Moran muttered, pushing Sherlock into a room that looked like a surgery room at a hospital. 

Sherlock felt his rage building and he reached back to grab onto Moran but the sniper grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Please,” Sherlock whimpered softly. 

Moran leaned down to whisper into Sherlock’s ear. “Try that again and I will break it,” the sniper growled. 

“Mr. Moran, I don’t think Mr. Moriarty would appreciate the fact that you’re hurting his toys in such a manager.” 

Moran released Sherlock’s hand and glared at the red head in a white doctor’s coat. “Sorry, Doc. Won’t happen again.” 

“It better not or I will report you.” The woman huffed. “Now, help get him up on the bed.” 

“Whatever you say,” Moran replied as he placed and arm around Sherlock’s back. “Drape your arm over my neck.” He tells Sherlock and much to his dismay Sherlock obeys. The detective’s arm is trying to grip onto Moran’s shirt as the sniper helps him stand. Sherlock doesn’t even try to suppress his screams of pain. 

It was a struggle but both Moran and the Doctor get Sherlock to the bed. The detective is now on his back with tears running down his cheeks. He can hardly breathe. 

“What did you two do to him?” The doctor asked Moran. 

“Oh, he may have a few broken ribs from me kicking him,” Moran said. 

The doctor frowned. “Anything else?”

“Lead sprinkler,” Moran replied nonchalantly. 

The doctor looked Sherlock up and down and realized from how the sweatpants were sticking to his legs that is where he was burned. “Why did you put his sweatpants back on?” 

“Because I was told too,” Moran huffed. “Why?” 

“He could get an infection or worse.” The doctor sighed. “Now, they have to be cut off of him.” 

Moran’s face beamed like a child on Christmas morning. “Can I do it?” 

Sherlock shuddered at the mere thought of Moran coming anywhere close to him with something sharp. He closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing but it only hurt his ribs. So, he shifted to try and move away even if it was a futile attempt. 

The Doctor could see the tension and stress was building in the curled haired man. She needed to do something to calm him down and the only thing that would do, would be to get Moran out of the room. She turned to the sniper and said, “Mr. Moran, I need you to leave.” 

“What? Why?” Moran huffed. 

“Because I cannot treat my patient with the utmost care I need to with you looming over my shoulder like a buzzard,” The Doctor informed him. 

Moran didn’t move. He just stared her down for another minute and when he realized she would not back down he said, “Fine. But, if he tries anything…” 

“He has broken ribs and you burned the hell out of his legs. I do not see him going anywhere.” She pointed at the door and growled, “Now, go.” 

Moran looked angry but he did as he was told. He turned and walked out of the room. 

The Doctor turned to Sherlock and said, “Now, shall we…” 

“Thank you,” Sherlock said softly as he looked up to meet her gaze. 

“For what? I haven’t done anything yet,” she replied softly. 

“For sending him away,” Sherlock said with a sigh. 

“You’re welcome.” She turned and picked up a pair of medical scissors, moving to stand at the bottom of the bed. “I need to cut those off of you.” 

Sherlock did not argue. The material from the sweatpants was tugging at his burnt skin. It was painful so he needed to trust this woman to know what she was doing otherwise something worse could come of this. He nodded and said, “Okay.” 

The Doctor slipped one of the blades inside the opening down by his ankle. She began to cut slowly, moving up his calf to his knee. Sherlock hissed through gritted teeth but he dared not move for the fear of the sharp point going into his leg. “Almost done,” she informed him. When she was past his knee she was thankful that his breathing slowed. It made it easier and her hand a little less shaky when she finally reached to the top. “Now, the other one.” 

“Oh, goodie,” Sherlock said in a small sarcastic tone. 

The Doctor smiled at him as she walked around to the other side of the bed. “I’m glad they haven't broken your spirit.” 

“Not yet anyway,” Sherlock spat bitterly.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said as she started to cut away at the other pant leg. 

“Why? You have nothing to do with this,” Sherlock said as he hissed when she hit a sensitive area. 

“Shit,” she gasped. “I didn’t mean…” 

“Quite alright,” Sherlock said. “Just get it over with.” 

She nodded as she cut up the pants until she reached his hip. “There.” She started to turn away when Sherlock reached out and grabbed her hand that held the scissors. He pulled her close to him and stared into her eyes. “Don’t.”

“Why? Because you’ll cut me?” Sherlock snarled. 

“No,” she replied softly. “Because Moran will. My job is to be a Doctor and to help those that need it. They brought you to me because you need help.” She leaned in and whispered, “Don’t give him a reason, Mr. Holmes.” 

When she pulled away Sherlock was staring at her with disbelief. This woman, who ever she was, knew who he was and yet…she worked for Moriarty. She didn’t want to hurt people. So why was she here? “Is he holding you here against your will?” 

The woman smiled at him before turning and walking over to a table. She gathered what she knew she would need and walked back over to the bed. “I’m going to peal the fabric away and apply some ointment that I know will help the burns.” 

Sherlock was frustrated that she refused to answer his question. He wanted to know because if Moriarty was holding her here then maybe he could get her out. Mycroft could put her into protective custody where Moriarty would never be able to reach her. It could work. 

“That’s dangerous thinking that I don’t want you to waste on me,” she said softly. “Worry about you and getting better. That’s enough for me.” She reached out and pulled the fabric back. Sherlock groaned in pain. “Sorry,” she said for hurting him. 

“It’s okay,” Sherlock replied as he turned to take even breathes. 

When she had a clear view now of his leg it looked just as she thought it would. There were blisters and blood. The skin was bright red and hot to the touch. The area around the blisters looked swollen. She pulled some rubber gloves onto her hands and places some of the ointment onto her hand. “Brace yourself if you can but this is going to hurt.” She moved her hand down to his leg and the moment she touched it Sherlock let out a dispatched wail that didn’t sound like him at all. “I’m so sorry.” She felt her heart ached for him. _If there was a way I could help you I would. God, forgive me, _she thought to herself. She moved her hand gently counter clockwise and she shook as Sherlock continued to scream. Soon the pain was to overwhelming for the detective to the point he passed out. She was thankful for that. When she applied the ointment to the other leg to pressed a button on the wall that indicated for Moran to return.__

__“So, is the little shit done yet?” Moran asked as he strolled into the room._ _

__“No,” the Doctor spanned back. “I need your help.”_ _

__“With what?” Moran said as he walked over to stand by the bed. “He’s passed out.”_ _

__“That’s right. I need to wrap his wounds and I need your help with that.”_ _

__Moran sighed dramatically. “Do I have too?”_ _

__“Unless you want me to interrupt, Mr. Moriarty,” she replied._ _

__“Uh, no,” Moran said a little too quickly. “The boss is a little preoccupied at the moment with his “friend,” Moran said marking air quotes at the word friend._ _

__The Doctor’s eyes grew wide as she turned her gaze to Sherlock. She knew who the brilliant detective was because of John Watson. A man she met long ago in a medical tent back on a cold rainy night in March. It was a night she would never forget. John was the best Doctor she had ever seen. It was like he was born to help people. Sure they lost some but because of John they saved more that they could have lost. He was the reason she went from being a nurse to a Doctor. And now Moriarty had him. She couldn’t breathe. It felt as though she was drowning and she just couldn’t reach the top._ _

__“Doc, you alright?” Moran asked and he shook her._ _

__“What? Oh yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”_ _

__“Well, let’s get this over with,” Moran grumbled._ _

__“Right,” she replied as she grabbed bandages and masking tape. “Left this left leg by his foot.”_ _

__“You’re the Doc, Doc,” Moran said as he moved down at the end of the bed. He lifted Sherlock’s foot high enough for the Doctor to start rapping the bandage around. When she was done Moran lifted it and they did the same to his right leg._ _

__“Thank you, Mr. Moran,” she replied as he placed his leg down on the bed._ _

__“Anytime, Doc,” He said. “When do you think he’ll be ready to go back to his cell?”_ _

__She frowned at him. “You’re not serious?”_ _

__“Tell hell I not,” Moran huffed back. “You know the rules. He will need to return.”_ _

__“Jesus Christ,” she snapped. “If it were up to me…”_ _

__He charged forward and grabbed her by her red hair, yanking it back and snarling in her face. “But, it’s not up to you, bitch, and if you value the life of your family I suggest you do as you’re told.”_ _

__She hissed through gritted teeth as she said, “Yes, Mr. Moran.”_ _

__“Good. That’s better.” He spun her around and pressed himself up against her back. “Now, how about you play nice?”_ _

__She shuddered at the thought of his cock once again thrusting inside of her but it was either this or he was going to move her patient. It was too soon and she was really worried about Sherlock. “Yes, Mr. Moran. Whatever you want.”_ _

__“That’s a good girl,” Moran purred into her ear. He pushed her up against the wall and pulled her pants down. “I’m going to fuck you right here, you little bitch.”_ _

__“Yes, Mr. Moran. Whatever you want,” she repeated again. It was horrible and degrading for her but she lasted this long. She could do it._ _

__Moran unzipped his jeans and pulled out his iron rid. It was so hard that when he thrust into her that it forced its way in without any lube. She screamed because it stung being so dry. “Yes, scream for me, bitch.”_ _

__The Doctor did not disappoint. It was painful and raw. She wished she could at least spit on her hand and rub it over his cock so it wouldn’t be so dry. But, he wanted to cause her pain for making him leave before. For threatening to tell his boss because Moriarty would punish him for not helping her when she asked. “Fuck,” She cried unable to hold back._ _

__“Mmm, yes,” he breathed as he started to thrust faster, pinning her hard against the wall. Soon he came with a shout and rested his body against her. He was panting into her ear, his breath smelled of cigarettes and cheap beer. “Thank you, Doc. That’s actually what I needed.”_ _

__“Yes, Mr. Moran. Whatever you want,” She whimpered through silent tears._ _

__He pulled out of her and put himself away. “Next time I’ll fuck your arse without preparing you if you disrespect me again.” He turned and left the room just leaving her there._ _

__After a few minutes she pulled herself together enough to pull up her pants. She wiped away her tears and walked over to Sherlock who thankfully was still unconscious. Without missing a beat she checked over him to see if everything was still okay. Sherlock seemed to be sleeping so she walked into the bathroom and closed the door. With a deep breath she undressed and walked over to the shower, turning it on as hot as it would go. She stepped underneath the scolding water and began to scrub everywhere. “Fuck,” she hissed when she touched her hips. There were bruises already forming where he was holding her in place. After awhile the water turned cold so she turned it off and stepped out. Drying herself off a new sense of hope was forming inside her as a plan started to work its way into her mind. She knew what she was going to do, what she had to do and she was willing to risk it if it meant lives would be spared. She gripped onto a heart locket around her neck and she spoke a vow that would change everything. “For you, for them and for me.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think about this chapter? Hope you enjoyed. Thank you for reading and commenting. It helps.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here is another chapter. I do hope you enjoy this. All I can say it poor John. 
> 
> If you like my work I do have a few short stories that I have published as an e-book.  
> The link below is where you can find them. I hope you enjoy... 
> 
> https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/mistressemerald

When Moriarty opened a door at the end of the hall and ushered John inside, it was something John was not exciting. It was fully refurnished with a wooden canopy top king size bed with black satin sheets. The carpet was dark blue and soft. There was a dark bark wood dresser in the corner that John was eyeing carefully. His mind began wonder with could possibly be in those drawers. 

“Daddy wants you to take your clothes off, Johnny,” Moriarty purred into the doctor’s ear. 

John closed his eyes as his heart began to hammer in his chest. He didn’t want to do this. Why should he be the one to do this? To be the one that this psychopath was so intent on breaking? What was it about him that attracted these sorts of madmen? He just wanted to be back in his bed while listening to Sherlock as he played his violin. _Sherlock,_ he thought to himself. He wondered how his flatmate was doing and his heart began to ache. Because, he knew to keep anything else from happening right now to Sherlock he had to do as Moriarty said. _I can do this,_ he thought to himself. So, John lifted his shirt up over his head and froze when he felt Moriarty’s hand at his left shoulder. 

“Does it still hurt?” Moriarty asked as he lightly touched the scar with his finger tips. 

“Some – Sometimes,” John replied softly, trying not to flinch away. 

Moriarty slowly moved around in front of John and stared hungrily at the scar where the bullet entered the doctor. He lightly traced his fingers around it, entranced by the mere idea of it. “It’s beautiful you know,” Moriarty said after a moment of silence. 

John was taken back by the criminal’s words unsure if he heard him correctly. “What?”

“Your scar, I think it’s beautiful,” Moriarty said softly. He looked up at John’s face and could tell the doctor was struggling with the idea. “No one’s ever said that to you, have they?” 

“N – No,” John stammered. “Any woman I’ve been with treats it like the pelage. They never go near it or if the bump it that is it for them because they think they hurt me. I try to explain it’s no big deal but they never seem to understand.” 

Without warning Moriarty grabs onto to John’s shoulder and presses his thumb hard into the scar. John screamed as his hands flew up to try and pry Moriarty’s hand away. Finally Moriarty let go and was smiling at John. “Oh, I understand, pet. Daddy is going to make it better.” Moriarty gripped John’s sweatpants and pulled them down around John’s ankles. He yanked them hard enough that John twisted and fell onto his stomach to the floor. 

John was in a slight daze with no time to react when Moriarty appeared with a set of handcuffs. The criminal straddled the doctor’s hips and pulled his hands behind his back. John bucked and struggled but Moriarty was stronger than him. _At least in this position he has the upper hand over me,_ John thought bitterly to himself. 

Once John was secured, Moriarty began to run his hands all over John. “You look so lovely like this, pet. I could just eat you up.” 

John couldn’t resist his shudder. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself?” John snarled into the carpet. 

Moriarty hand shot up and gripped onto John’s head, yanking his head back. “What was that?” He snarled low. John hissed through gritted teeth but said nothing. “Does Daddy need to teach you some manners, Johnny?” He moved his lips closer to John’s ear and snarled. “How it’s not nice to talk back to you master?” 

“I’m not a pet,” John growled, knowing he was going to regret it. 

Moriarty sake his teeth into John’s left shoulder forcing the doctor to scream. It was hard enough that blood was running down both sides of John and the worst part of all it was going to leave a scar. When Moriarty pulled back he stood and flipped John on his back, straddling him again. 

John grunted when he was flipped over with now putting pressure on his hands. But, all that went out the window when his eyes grew wide with shock as he looked up and saw blood dripping from Moriarty’s mouth. His blood. _Oh, Jesus,_ John thought panicky. 

Moriarty licked his lips sensually like a vampire from a horror film. “You taste divine, pet.” He looked down than back up at John. “I wonder how it would taste like with other aspects of your being.” 

John began to panic. He knew Moriarty was crazy but the man just bit him and was now licking it. “You’re bloody insane!” 

“Just getting that now, are we?” Moriarty purred, moving back onto John’s legs. He started to lean down and John just watched in horror as the criminal’s bloody mouth engulfed his cock. 

John turned his head away and closed his eyes. _His fucking insane!_ John shouted within his mind. He needed to think about something else, anything else other than the madman that was sucking him off with his own blood staining himself. 

“None of that, pet. Your master requires your full attention or I’ll make this even more unpleasant,” Moriarty warned. 

John swallowed at the threat. So he turned his head back and looked down at Moriarty. 

“That’s a good boy,” Moriarty praised. He suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. “Ever fantasize about blood play, Johnny?” John shook his head. “Don’t lie to me. Daddy can tell when you lie.” 

John took a deep breath as he said, “Yes.” 

“I knew it,” Moriarty said in a sing-song manner as he flicked open the knife. “Here’s what’s going to happen my darling.” He placed the blade against John’s stomach and the doctor stilled. “I’m going to make you cum by giving you want you want. A fantasy that you’ve been to afraid to tell anyone but Daddy knows, doesn’t he?” He pressed the knife into John’s stomach hard enough so when he pulled it across his skin, blood began to seep through the wound. Moriarty moved up and lapped at him, forcing John to hiss through his gritted teeth. With his other hand Moriarty was stroking John’s cock with the mixture of blood and saliva that was left behind. 

John shivered as the blade cut into him and felt disgusted at Moriarty licking up his blood. However, his cock was hard as a rock. He knew it was a natural thing for his body to be reacting to the situation. After it was feeling good but he didn’t want it from this madman. “Stop,” John said softly after the forth cut to his stomach. 

“Awe, what’s the matter, Johnny? Don’t want to play anymore?” Moriarty mocked. “I could go play with Sherlock if you want me to stop. Just say the word.” 

“You fucking bastard,” John snarled. 

Moriarty giggled. “I know you are but what am I?” 

John closed his eyes. He felt so angry and he wanted to tell him off but it wouldn’t do him any good. 

“That’s what I thought,” Moriarty said triumphantly. “Now, be a good boy and cum for Daddy.” Moriarty started moving his hand faster up and down John’s staff. He was awarded with John arching his back and groaning. “That’s it, Johnny.” Moriarty pulled the knife across John’s right thigh, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. “Pleasure and pain go hand and hand.” 

John felt sick at the thought of him actually getting off on this. He hissed when he felt the blade sting across his thigh. He wanted it to stop but he also wanted more. _Am I really this fucked up?_ he asked himself. 

“You’re beautiful,” Moriarty praised as he reached over and sliced a spot on John’s left thigh. John whimpered at the pain of it. “You’re such a good little doggie, pet. I could listen to those noises you make all day long.” 

John glared up at Moriarty and decided to try not making a sound. 

“No, don’t do that,” Moriarty warned as he placed the knife against John’s throat. “I want to hear every sound, Johnny. Every moan, every whimper, and every scream come from those lushes lips of yours. Otherwise I’ll make it hurt.” Moriarty let the knife trail down John’s chest as he continued stroking the doctor. 

John knew it would be in his best interest to just do as the madman said. So he moaned as Moriarty cut a thin line down his stomach. “Christ,” John breathed. 

“Yes, Johnny,” Moriarty moaned. 

John could feel the heat pooling in his stomach and he knew he was close. So, down close.

Moriarty could tell by the tense in John’s body that he was about to cum. “That’s it, Johnny. Cum for Daddy.” Just as John was sent over the edge Moriarty moved up and land his weight down on John, pressing him into the carpet. He left enough room so with one hand he was still stroking John but with the other he pressed it to John’s throat while he crushed his lips against the doctor’s. John screamed into Moriarty’s mouth as he came all over the criminal’s hand and suit. Somehow the thought of tainting Moriarty’s Westwood was a little more arousing than it sound be.

After a few minutes Moriarty pulled away and John couldn’t help but think that the criminal looked like a bloody crime scene being covered in John’s cum and blood. “Jesus Christ,” John breathed as he felt like he wanted to be sick. 

Moriarty looked down at himself and smiled. “I do look like a crime scene don’t I, Johnny boy?” Moriarty giggled at John’s reaction. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You enjoyed it and I know you want to do it again.” 

“No, I don’t,” John huffed out. 

“Don’t lie to me, Johnny,” Moriarty warned. 

John gave Moriarty a pointed look. “I’m not.” 

Moriarty narrowed his eyes at John before he stood. He bent down and forced John to his feet. “Come on,” He spat out as he walked John towards a door. 

“Where are you taking me?” John demanded as he tried to walk on his jello like legs. 

When Moriarty pushed John through the door he turned on the light. It was a bathroom with a stand up shower. He pushed John over to it. “Get in.” 

John brow furrowed a moment trying to understand why Moriarty wanted him to step inside. Finally it dawned on him. “My cuts.” 

Moriarty smiled devilishly. “That’s right, Johnny. It’s going to sting like hell. Now get in.” 

John hesitated. 

“It’s either this or salt,” Moriarty warned. 

John glared at Moriarty before he stepped into the shower. _At least this way there is a less chance of infection,_ John thought to himself. 

Moriarty leaned forward and placed his hand on the shower knob. “You will remain underneath the water at all times.” It was not a request. 

John nodded and Moriarty turned on the water as hot as he could make it. It instantly burned John’s skin and he screamed. The small cuts and the bite mark on his neck stung like nothing he’d ever felt before. But, John didn’t move. He was thankful that even though it was scolding him that his level of fear for what Moriarty would do to him if he did was keeping his frozen on the spot. 

After some time passed Moriarty shut off the water and had John step out. He grabbed a towel and began to dry John off. He looked as red as a crab. “I think you’ve earned a little time to rest. Don’t you?” He said as he had John face him. 

John only nodded. A little rest did sound appealing and if Moriarty was offering something like that he wasn’t going to pass it up.

“Good,” Moriarty said as he pushed John back into the other room. He made John walked over to the bed and watched as the doctor struggled to climb onto the bed with his hands still bound behind him. 

“Can I…have these removed?” John asked timidly as he lay on his side.

Moriarty covered him up and said, “When you have proven to me that I can trust you.” Moriarty leaned down and kissed John on the forehead. “In the mean time try to rest because what I have planned for you next will be sure to break a few bricks on that wall of yours.” 

John shuddered at the thought before closing his eyes. He listened to Moriarty’s feet retreat back into the bathroom and the shower turning on a few seconds later. The doctor was afraid for what was to come but he also felt exhausted and the little cuts still stung all over him. _I’m so sorry, Sherlock. I – I don’t think I’m strong enough. If they don’t come soon I’m afraid he is going to break me._ That was the last thing John thought before sleep over powered him and forced him down into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter. What do you think and is there anything you might want to see? 
> 
> If you like my work I do have a few short stories that I have published as an e-book.  
> The link below is where you can find them. I hope you enjoy... 
> 
> https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/mistressemerald


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for reading. 
> 
>  
> 
> I have four short erotic stories here. Just them out. 
> 
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/3957394  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396054  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/351521  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/351697

When Mycroft’s black town car pulled up in front of an abandon warehouse he looked over at Greg and asked, “Are you sure you want to cross this line with me?” 

Greg was looking down at his hands. He was a man that followed the law to the book. However, when he met Sherlock that all but changed his view on the world. That some men are above the law like Mycroft or the law could not touch them. Men like Moriarty. They make their own laws and that was something Greg hated the most. But, right now. If it wasn’t for Mycroft they wouldn’t have be able to fine the man that almost took his life. Finally he looked up at Mycroft and said, “Yes, I’m sure.” 

Mycroft grabbed hold onto Greg’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Let’s go.” 

They got out of the car and walked into the building and what Greg saw he couldn’t believe. There was the man that they saw on the video feed naked and bound to a chair. When he walked closer he saw that the chair had no bottom to it. He closed his eyes realizing what was going to happen here and did his best to stomach it. 

Mycroft looked over at Greg and saw the DI’s face turn white. He knew that Greg wouldn’t have the stomach to watch someone be tortured but he wanted to be here. It was his choice and all Mycroft could do was to help him through it. “Breathe,” Mycroft whispered to Greg. 

Greg nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just get it over with.” 

Mycroft turned and walked towards the naked man in the chair. A man with dark hair wearing a suit stepped forward and handed Mycroft a vanilla file then stepped back out of sight. Mycroft looked down at the file as he opened it and said, “Jonathon James Williams. 42 years of age. You were on the bomb squad unit for nearly 12 years. Before that you were in the Army. No family. You’re parents are still alive but they don’t know you are.” 

“Are you just going to bore me with what we both already know or should we just go straight to the torture part of the interrogation?” Jonathon spat out. 

“Alright then,” Mycroft said as he closed the file and looked at the bound man. “Why did Moriarty want to kill Inspector Gregory Lestrade?” 

Jonathon started laughed. “Want too? Please, no one could have survived that blast.” 

That’s when Greg stepped into view. 

Jonathon’s eyes grew wide out of fear. “No. You’re supposed to be dead.” 

“It only works if said person was in the correct place when the bomb trying to kill them goes off,” Greg snarled.

Jonathon began to struggle. “No. You were supposed to die in that blast. This isn’t the way the story goes.” 

“I guess we’ll be writing our own ending,” Mycroft said. 

“You really think I’m afraid of you, Iceman?” Jonathon snapped. 

Mycroft smiled a sinister smile at Jonathon and said, “You should be.” He snapped his fingers and suddenly Jonathon was screaming. One of Mycroft’s henchmen swung a large metal ball that connected to the underside of Jonathon’s manhood. “Tell me where Moriarty is.” 

Jonathon was shaking as he felt like his balls were up in his stomach. He glared at Mycroft and growled, “Go fuck yourself.” 

That earned him another strike and Jonathon screamed. 

“Just tell me what I want to know and I’ll end your pain,” Mycroft said. 

Jonathon was trembling and panting hard. He was hissing through his teeth trying hard to move past the pain. “Piss of you wanker.” 

Another strike and Jonathon wailed. It was a lot harder this time and he looked like he was about ready to pass out. 

Greg was cringing each time the metal ball forced a scream from the man. Every fiber in his body wanted to rush forward to make it stop because it was screaming that this was wrong. It was horrible and he couldn’t believe Mycroft was so calm. _How could he be this calm?_ Greg thought to himself. He turned his back because he wasn’t able to watch Jonathon’s face twist with pain when the ball connected again. It was becoming a little much. 

Mycroft glanced over at Greg and saw the distress in his body. He knew that Greg would never look at him the same way but this was part of his job. To extract information for the enemy by any means necessary and he hoped Greg understood that. “Tell me where Moriarty is.” 

Jonathon’s body shook but his face looked determined. “You know I had the option of doing whatever I pleased to him,” he said motioning towards Greg. “Maybe I should have fucked him.”

Mycroft charged forward and wrapped his hands around the man’s throat cutting off his air. Greg and two other of Mycroft’s men were trying to pry Mycroft of the man. 

“Mycroft, don’t. We need him,” Greg said into his lover’s ear. 

Finally Mycroft pulled back and the bomber just laughed as he coughed. “Brilliant. Just as _he_ said. Not only is Sherlock your pressure point but so is the Inspector.” 

Mycroft pulled free and punched the man so hard in the face that he heard a cracking sound. He’d broken Jonathon’s nose. “Let’s see you if you can breathe when your heads below water,” Mycroft snarled. 

The two henchmen untied Jonathon, dragged him out of the chair, and forced him onto his knees. Two other men in suits walked over while carrying a larger tub of ice water. They set it down in front of the bomber. 

Mycroft stood there staring down at the man with daggers. He wanted him to suffer. “Tell me where Moriarty is.” 

Jonathon was breathing through his mouth as best he could and said, “Fuck off.” 

Mycroft gave a curt nod and the two that held Jonathon forced his head down into the water for 5 seconds before they pulled him back up. “Tell me where Moriarty is.” 

“No,” Jonathon choked out before his head was forced back into the ice water. His body was struggling as he fought to pull his head out. But, he was unable to do anything with the two sets of strong hands holding him in place. Finally they pulled him up. 

“Tell me where Moriarty is,” Mycroft said as he kept the same impassive expression on his face. 

This time Jonathon just shook his head and his head was once again in the ice water. 

“Shouldn’t there be another way?” Greg suddenly asked. 

After 5 seconds they pulled Jonathon’s head up and he looked half dead already. 

“I’m open to suggestions,” Mycroft replied. 

Greg took a deep breath and walked over to the man. He knelt down so he could look into Jonathon’s eyes. “You tried to kill me and watching you be tortured makes me realize there was a thousand and one different ways you could have done that without killing so many people I cared about. Now, I’m going to asked you a question and I want the truth. Did Moriarty suggest you kill me at the Yard or did you come up with that idea yourself?” 

Jonathon smiled at Greg and said, “That was all me. He told me to get the point across and what better way than to place a bomb in the one place no one would suspect it.” 

Greg gripped the man’s hair and shoved his head into the water. This time for 10 seconds and he pulled him up. Jonathon sucked in enough air for Greg to shove his head back into the icy water for another 10 seconds before pulling him back up. 

“Stop!” Jonathon shouted. 

However, Greg didn’t. He shoved the man’s head back in and watched as his body struggled. When his body almost went limb Greg pulled him back up. 

Jonathon was gasping for air. “Please, stop,” he choked out, trying to suck in air even though it was burning his lungs. 

“Why should I?” Greg asked. 

“B – Because I’ll tell you w – what you want to k – know,” Jonathon stammered. 

“Good. I guess we can…” 

Suddenly it happened so fast that Greg had no time to process it. He was covered brain matter and blood as Jonathon’s head exploded before him. Mycroft was pulling him to his feet when another shot flew past their heads. He could hear gun fire as Mycroft pulled him towards the door behind them. When they were safe behind a wall Mycroft was looking Greg over to make sure the blood wasn’t his. 

“Are you alright?” Mycroft asked panicky. 

“What? Yes, I’m fine,” Greg murmured still shocked from what just happened. 

“Good,” Mycroft said thankfully.

“What just happened?” Greg asked, still having trouble processing. 

“It appears we were followed and someone took out Jonathon before we could tell us anything of use,” Mycroft said bitterly. 

“So, were back to square one,” Greg huffed as he looked down at the ground. 

“It seems that way,” Mycroft growled. 

Suddenly his phone began to ring and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was an unknown number and Mycroft growled at it before he answered it. “If you…” 

“Oh, shut up and listen,” Moriarty snapped. “I was not expecting you to find him this fast but you must realize Daddy keeps a close eye on all his pets.” 

It suddenly dawned on Mycroft. “You chipped him so you could track him.” 

“That’s correct, Iceman. Wow, you really are smart one,” Moriarty mused. 

“I want to speak to my brother, Moriarty,” Mycroft demanded. 

“And I wanted your boyfriend to die, Mycroft,” Moriarty snapped back. “But, we can’t always get what we want.” 

“What do you want?” Mycroft asked.

“Put me on speaker.” Once Mycroft did Moriarty continued. “Now, if you and Gregory play along with a little game I have in store I will let you talk to him at the end of each round. Sound good?” 

“No deal,” Mycroft snapped. 

“Mycroft, this is your brother and John we are talking about. Just hear him out,” Greg said. 

“Listen to your lover, Iceman,” Moriarty mocked. 

Mycroft opened his mouth to say something to Moriarty but Greg covered his mouth with his hand. Their eyes met and just like John and Sherlock, Mycroft understood. Greg removed his hand and said, “What do you want us to do?” 

“Does that mean you’re in, Mycroft?” Moriarty asked. 

“Yes,” Mycroft snapped. 

“Good,” Moriarty said happily. “There will be three rounds. When you are done with each round I will let you speak to Sherlock. However, if you do not complete the round before the time is up more people will die. Understand?” 

Greg could see Mycroft was biting his tongue so Greg said, “Yes, we understand.” 

“Excellent. Now, I’m sure you’re well aware, Gregory, that you heard that a murder took place at St. Parncras International,” Moriarty asked. 

Greg blinked a few times before he replied, “I was actually on my way to the elevator to head there when the package arrived.” 

“Ah, so that’s how you survived. I’m impressed.” 

“Get to the point, Moriarty,” Mycroft snapped. 

“Alright, Iceman, sheesh. Don’t get your knickers in a bunch,” Moriarty mused. 

Mycroft was about to snapped but Greg shook his head trying to inform him it was a bad idea. 

“You have six hours to solve the murder before a bomb will detonate somewhere in the city. Which means you half to do some leg work, Iceman, but I am sure you’ll do great. When you solved it just text this number and I will tell you where the bomb is. Easy enough, right? Good. In the mean time I think I’ll have a quick chat with your brother, Mycroft. See how he is healing up. Chao,” Moriarty said before the line went dead.

Mycroft gripped his phone and was about to throw it when Greg stopped him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Mycroft, you need to calm down. We need to focus.” 

“I’m going to kill him,” Mycroft snarled as he stormed off towards the door. 

Greg followed him out the door and to the car. He spun Mycroft around before he got into the car. “I know you will but right now Sherlock and John are counting on us. Not to mention we need to do this before another bomb goes off. I was in the middle of all that destruction, Mycroft. We need to play his game or people are going to die. Please,” Greg begged. 

Mycroft stared into his eyes and nodded before he slipped into his car with Greg right behind him. “To St. Pancras International and do not stop for red lights.” 

Greg pulled out his phone and shot off a quick text to Donovan to let her know he was alright and where he was headed. They could use all the help they could get into bring Moriarty to his knees. 

“I’m sorry,” Mycroft suddenly said. 

Greg looked at him and asked, “For what?” 

“That I fell for you,” Mycroft whispered. 

Greg placed a hand under Mycroft’s chin and lifted his head so he could see Mycroft’s eyes. “Mycroft, I care for you a great deal. I’m glad you told me because I’m happy to be with you.” 

He turned his head away. “My brother and I…we are like a burning flame. If you fly to close you’ll get burned.” He took Greg’s hand into his own and met his gaze once more. “I almost lost you and then you saw a side of me, the side that only Sherlock has seen. You are a good man like John and…and I feel like we are pulling you down.” 

Greg smiled softly at him. “You’re job is to stop the bad guy. Well, so is mine. I’ve learned a little while back that the law doesn’t apply to certain people.” Greg leaned in and kissed Mycroft gently on the lips. It was nice but when Greg pulled back he said, “Whatever happens I’m behind you until the end. We will get them back and we will make sure Moriarty pays for what he has done.” 

Mycroft nodded pulled Greg over to him until the DI was laying his head on Mycroft shoulder. It was nice. They rarely shared such tender moments with each other because of enemy eyes but right now they didn’t care. They were just both happy Greg was alive and Mycroft would make damn sure nothing would happen to him. Even if he had to put himself in harm’s way to make sure he was safe. 

_All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading. 
> 
> I have four short erotic stories here. Just them out. 
> 
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/3957394  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396054  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/351521  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/351697


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter. There is a plan in place that will be known. The feels will flow but you will love it just the same. Thank you.

When the doctor exited the bathroom fully clothed she was startled seeing Moriarty standing beside Sherlock’s bed. The criminal didn’t look up at her as he asked, “How is he?” 

“How do you think he is?” she snapped. 

Moriarty looked up at her, narrowing his gaze as he looked her up and down. “Seb?” 

She wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped closer to Sherlock’s bed. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Moriarty walked around and placed a gentled hand on her hand. “Because it matters to me,” he said softly. He lifted his hand to her chin and forced her gaze to his. “I’ll have a talk with him.” Moriarty removed his hand and turned his attention back to Sherlock. “I need to talk to him.” 

The doctor nodded and walked over to the table on the other side of Sherlock’s bed. She picked up a syringe and a glass bottle of clear liquid. She stuck the needle into the bottle and pulled back as the syringe filled with the liquid. Typing it a few times she stuck the needle into Sherlock’s arm and within a few seconds his eyes fluttered open. 

“What the fuck…” Sherlock blinked rapidly as he let his brain try to reboot itself like a computer coming out of sleep mode. As he looked he saw the doctor and smiled at her. However, she wasn’t smiling or talking back so he turned his gaze and saw Moriarty smiling down at him.

“Hello, Sherlock,” Moriarty sang. “How are you feeling?” 

Sherlock glared at him. “Like I’m on fire.” 

“Sounds painful,” Moriarty retorted. 

“Well, if you care for a demonstration I’m sure I could find some alcohol and lighter to use on you. I’m sure you’d make a wonderful test dummy,” Sherlock spat harshly. 

Moriarty frowned. “That’s not being very nice, Sherlock.” 

“Well, one tends to get testy after being burned with boiling oil,” Sherlock snarled. “What do you want?” 

“I just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing is all,” Moriarty said, trying to sound innocent. 

“You’re intentions are never so innocent, Jim. Are you here to rub this in my face? To rub John in my face like a child with a new toy,” Sherlock hissed. 

Moriarty took a step closer, his eyes beaming as he said, “Yes.” He lifted his hands as a spun around. “He is perfect, Sherlock.” Moriarty stopped to meet Sherlock gaze. “Johnny is absolutely perfect. I see why you kept him around. From the noises he makes, to the anger, to the bravery, to the loyalty, to the humor, to the friendship…Every inch of him from the top of his sandy hair to the tip of his toes, he is just a dream come true.” Moriarty moved to climb onto the bed and straddled Sherlock forcing the detective to scream. 

“Mr. Moriarty, please…” 

Moriarty ignored her and covered Sherlock’s mouth with his hand. “I’m going to break him, Sherlock. Everything he was. Everything you knew him to be. I will destroy and I will rebuild him into my own creation.” Moriarty leaned in closer, breath ghosting over Sherlock lips. “I’m going to make him mine and no amount of your words or compassion will change him back.” Moriarty kissed Sherlock, thrusting his tongue into Sherlock’s mouth. Sherlock bit down forcing a yelp from the criminal as he pulled back. Moriarty could taste blood and he smiled with his teeth stained red of his own blood. “Hmm, this reminds me of something. Oh, yes I remember. It wasn’t my blood I tasted just a few minutes ago.” He made a show of licking his lips and he hummed in satisfaction.

Sherlock lost it then. He shot his hands up and wrapped them around Moriarty’s throat. Next thing Sherlock knew was Moran was punching him in the ribs which forced him to let go. He was trying to breath but it becoming increasingly hard to do so. 

“No, stop! You’re going to puncher his lung!” The doctor shouted panicky. 

Moriarty snapped his fingers which made Moran stop and back off. The criminal leaned forward and whispered into Sherlock’s ear, “You can’t stop this from happening, Sherlock. As much as you think you can Johnny is mine and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to stop me.” Moriarty pulled back and smiled down at Sherlock. He patted the detective’s cheek and said, “So, be a good boy and perhaps…” 

It was totally unexpected. No one saw it coming, not even Moriarty. Sherlock pulled his fist back and with all his might punched Moriarty in the face. Moran began to punch Sherlock in the face as Moriarty scrambled to get off the bed. “You fucking twat!” 

“No, stop it! Please, just stop it,” the doctor shouted. 

Finally Moriarty snapped his fingers, forcing Moran to back off even if the sniper didn’t want too. Moriarty walked up to the side of the bed. Sherlock’s face looked like a biker gang just used his face for a punching bag. It made Moriarty smile as he hissed, “For someone calming to be such a genius that was stupid.” 

Sherlock was panting and doing his best to breathe but he felt satisfaction because he could see the bruise starting to form around Moriarty’s left eye. “I’m sure John will get a kick out of it.” 

Moriarty narrowed his eyes at Sherlock. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?” 

Sherlock could taste his own blood now but he ignored it. “It one of the many things that John actually likes about me,” Sherlock retorted. 

“We shall see about that,” Moriarty spat in reply. “In the mean time…” Moriarty walked over and picked up a riding crop off one of the medical tables. He was admiring it as he said, “It such a beautiful piece. The artist did a fine job with the leather work. I’ve not used this one yet because I was saving it for someone special.” He turned and pointed it at Sherlock. “Seems rather appreciate, don’t ya think?” 

Sherlock wanted to steal himself away from this but he knew if he did that Moriarty would make it ten times worse for him. No, he had to see this through. 

Moriarty smiled at Sherlock, seeing how Sherlock was doing his best to prepare for the pain. “Oh, Sherlock,” Moriarty chuckled. “You care brace for it all you like but…” Moriarty swung and hit the edge of the bed, causing Sherlock to flinch. “There is no preparing for the amount of pain this will cause you and I’m going to enjoy every scream.” Moriarty raised his arm and was about to swing when the doctor gripped onto his arm. 

“No,” she shouted as she began to wrestle the riding crop from Moriarty’s hold. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten about Moran when the sniper grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back. She was struggling to free herself from Moran’s grip but the sniper was too strong. 

Moriarty turned her attention from Sherlock to the doctor, surprised she was trying to make such an effort. “Have I taught you nothing?” 

“You can’t just expect me to stand by and watch you torture you someone before my eyes,” she growled. “You’re inhuman.” That’s when she realized her mistake. 

Moriarty’s faced twisted into something so ugly that Sherlock thought the man was going to unleash a demon within. “Strip her,” Moriarty command. 

Moran did as he was told. He ripped apart the doctor’s shirt and bra before ripping her pants away. She stood there fully nude in front of him. 

“Cuff her and hang her,” Moriarty snarled. 

Moran pulled out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed her hands in front of her. Then he walked over and lowered a chain that was hanging from the ceiling. He lifted her hands up over her head and cuffed her hands to the chain. Then he pulled on the chain which forced her arms up high enough that she stood only on her tippy toes and leaving her fully exposed to Moriarty. 

Moriarty walked around her slowly like a predator to prey. “You’ve been so compliant up until now. Doing as you’re told for the fear of your loved one ending up in the morgue but now you try to stop me.” He came to stand in front of her, waving the crop in his hand he asked, “Can you tell me why? Why would you do that? You know who I am and you know what I’m capable of. Yet you tried to stop me knowing full well it was a horrible idea.” He ran the crop from her belly button up to her breasts. “Tell me why.” 

She just stared at Moriarty. There was no way in hell she was going to tell him the truth and perhaps he will see that she would be lying about it but she couldn’t tell him it was because of John. It would make this that much worse if she did. So instead she said, “Because, this is wrong. The man is already hurt badly. He needs a hospital and yet here you stand about ready to beat his wounds. I can’t stand for that.” 

Moriarty turned and looked at Sherlock. “Do you have anything to say on her behave?” 

“Everything I have to say has already crossed your mind,” Sherlock said bitterly. 

Moriarty smiled as he turned and wacked the crop against the doctor’s breast with such force it made her scream. “Music to my ears,” he mused. 

Sherlock started to slowly move but Moran pulled out his gun and pointed it at him, forcing the detective to still. “Moriarty,” Sherlock snapped. Another blow landed on the doctor’s breast before Moriarty turned to look at him. “Leave her alone.” 

Moriarty walked to the side of her. “You are in no shape to tell me what to do, Sherlock. Besides this is between me and my employee here and the dangers of taking back,” Moriarty hissed as another blow landed on her back this time. The doctor wailed. 

“She was only trying to help me,” Sherlock begged. 

“Does that make it right? No!” Moriarty spat as another blow landed on her back, forcing her to scream. Her body started to shake as she pulled at her cuffs, wishing desperately to be freed. “She belongs to me. Just…” Another blow, “Like…” Another blow, “Johnny boy…” and a finally blow of the riding crop to her back made the doctor almost pass out. Moriarty turned around and giggled. “It seems I know how to pick’em, eh Sherlock?” Moriarty slowly walked over to the bed and smiled at Sherlock. “Well, it seems you get a pass this time but next time. I’ll show no mercy.” 

He turned and started to head for the door. “Come, Sebby dear. I have something I want you to fetch for Daddy.” He stopped at the door and looked back at Sherlock. “I think Johnny’s rested long enough.” He smiled devilishly before he turned and walked out the door, Moran following close behind. 

When Sherlock heard the door lock he threw back the sheet and struggled to his feet. 

The doctor was struggling to steady herself when she looked up to see Sherlock trying to stand. “W – What are you doing?” The doctor asked him. 

Sherlock was in horrible pain and he wasn’t for sure he could stand but he couldn’t leave her like that. She saved him. So, it was his turn to help her. He could already see welts forming on her skin and blood running down her chest from where the crop sliced opened skin. “I want to help you.” 

“Sherlock, you can’t. If you try anything then Moriarty will make you suffer. I did this because I didn’t want you any worse then you already are. Please, just lay still.” The doctor said softly. 

Sherlock stopped and stared at her. She looked so hopeful and he didn’t understand why. “But, I can’t leave you like that,” Sherlock replied. “Please, let me do something.” 

The doctor shook her head. “No,” she stated firmly. “Would John let you if he was the one hanging here?”

That made Sherlock pause. 

“That’s what I thought. You stay right where you are. As your doctor you are in no conduction to get up and move about. You’re not strong enough. So please, just lay still.” 

Sherlock could hear the desperation in her tone. She really didn’t want him to move. It was true though. He felt like his legs were still on fire and that the skin was eating away itself even though he knew that wasn’t possible at this point. Still if it were John hanging there he still wouldn’t listen regardless if John would be pissed at him for doing so. “Can I just…” 

“For fuck sakes, Sherlock,” She spanned. “No wonder you’re a pain in the arse.” She felt herself smile for the first time in…well she really couldn’t remember the last time she smiled. But, it felt nice. 

Sherlock smiled back at her as he said, “So, I’ve been informed repeatedly.” 

“Please, you need to gather and save your strength where it actually matters,” she said sadly. 

“You matter,” Sherlock said softly. 

She smiled a sad smile at him and said, “No, I don’t. I’m expendable. However, you need to live on. You and your friend.” 

That raised more questions than it should have. “Do you know John?” 

She felt the camera on her that was hidden in the wall and she felt the urge to answer him but she couldn’t let it be known. Not yet. “I’m just a fan that reads his blog,” she said softly. 

Sherlock nodded. It was enough for him. “Thank you.” 

It took her a moment but when she realized what he was thanking her for she replied, “You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading.
> 
> I have four short erotic stories here. Just them out.
> 
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/3957394  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396054  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/351521  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/351697


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you like this chapter. It is creepy so be aware. 
> 
> In this Moriarty is singing a song and this link below is what he is singing to John. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P4T3tMkjRig
> 
> Enjoy.

When John slowly came to, he forgot for only a moment where he was until he focused his gaze on Moriarty who was standing fully dressed in a grey suit and yellow tie beside the bed. There was music playing in the back ground and it set a chill through John when Moriarty started to sing along with it. 

“Stars shining bright above you; Night breezes seem to whisper, “I love you;” Birds singing in the sycamore tree; Dream a little of me…” Moriarty moved forward and sat down on the side of the bed next to John. His hand slowly started to run over the doctor’s hip. 

John flinched at the touch as stared up at him frozen in place by fear. He wasn’t for sure what to do. So he just lay there and listened. 

“Say, “Nighty-night,” and kiss me; Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me; While I’m alone and blue as can be; Dream a little dream of me…” Moriarty pushed John onto this back and straddled him. He leaned down and kissed him on the tip of his nose before letting his hands roam over the doctor’s chest. 

John was in so much pain from having his hands still cuffed. He needed them off but now Moriarty was putting more pressure onto him. “Moriarty…” 

“Shhh, pet. I’m singing to you,” Moriarty purred. “Stars fading, but I linger on, dear; Still craving your kiss,” Moriarty sang and he leaned down closer to John’s lips but didn’t connect. “I’m longing to linger until dawn, dear; Just saying this.” Moriarty sat back up but continued to sing. “Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you; Sweet dreams that leave all your worries behind you; But, in your dreams, whatever they be; Dream a little dream of me…” 

As the music played on Moriarty smiled down at John and said, “I think this is our song.” 

John closed his eyes to try and block it all out. Because he was terrified to have anything with this monster and he just wanted this nightmare to be over. When was it going to be over? 

Suddenly Moriarty was climbed off of him and pulled him up off the bed. He pulled John in close, wrapping his arms around his waist and started to sway to the music. “I think I’m falling for you, Johnny. I know it sounds crazy but I think I am.” 

John didn’t say anything in return. What the bloody hell could he have said? This man was insane. 

“I know it seems a little soon but some do believe love at first sight. I feel deep down that's what this is,” Moriarty said as he pulled back to look into John’s blue eyes. “What do you think?” 

John wanted to tell him what he actually thought of the psychopath. He wanted to tell him he wanted him to burn in hell but that would result in more pain. “I don’t believe it’s possible.” 

Moriarty looked genially surprised. “Really? Not even with Sherlock?” 

John opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. If he thought about the first moment he met Sherlock, back in that lab, he knew that wasn’t true. 

“See, I knew it,” Moriarty giggled with glee. 

“What?” John snapped. 

“You do believe in love at first sight because you’re in love with him,” Moriarty said. “Tell me. Was it is long flowing locks? His deep sensually voice or his brain that you fell for first?” 

“Can we not talk about him?” John grumbled. He was naked and in the arms of his enemy. There was no way he wanted to talk about Sherlock like this and especially with the likes of James Moriarty. 

“You’re no fun,” Moriarty pouted. 

_Christ, he’s like a five year old,_ John thought bitterly to himself. In some ways he and Sherlock were alike but at least Sherlock wasn’t insane like Moriarty. 

Finally the music stopped playing. Moriarty stopped John and said, “I’m going to take those off of you but only if you promise for the moment to behave. I’ll let you go to the bathroom by yourself but when you return I’m strapping you down to the bed.” Moriarty face turned darker, more threatening. “If you do anything to fight me I will cut off one of Sherlock’s fingers and I will bring it back to you topped with a bow. Do you understand?” 

John felt horrified by the image of that in his mind. Sherlock’s long finger in a ring box topped with a red bow. He shook his head and said, “I won’t do anything. I promise.” 

“Good boy,” Moriarty cooed as he made John turned around. He pulled out a key and unlocked John's cuffs. “Don’t be long," he said, giving a gentle slap to John's arse. 

John was rubbing the soreness out of his wrists as he glared over his shoulder at Moriarty. Without a word he walked over and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He checked to see if there was a lock on the door and was disappointed to find none. With a heavy sigh he walked over to the toilet and relieved himself. When he was finished with that he flushed and walked over to the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. "What in the bloody hell am I going to do?" John asked his reflection as if somehow it held all the answers. But, when his reflection offered nothing in returned, John sighed as he turned on the faucet and splashed cool water onto face. He just needed time. Time to come up with a plan to free him and Sherlock from this hell they found themselves trapped in. 

Suddenly there was a knock on the door as Moriarty said from the other side of the door, “Is everything alright, pet?” 

“Yes, everything is fine,” John called out. 

“Okay, I just wanted to be sure…” there was a pause before Moriarty added, “Daddy only wants the best for _his_ boy.” 

“I’m not your boy,” John grumbled. 

“What was that?” Moriarty inquired. 

“Nothing…I’ll be out in a moment,” John quickly said, panicked that Moriarty was going to storm in and do something to hurt him. When nothing happened John grabbed the towel that was hanging on a metal rack on the wall to dry off his face. That’s when he noticed the little cuts on his stomach. The cuts that Moriarty gave to him and made him cum while doing so. It made his cock twitch just thinking about it and he cursed himself for being aroused. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” John whispered. Why was he feeling turned on from the fact of Moriarty being covered in his own blood? It was sick and wrong and he wanted no part. He tossed the towel away from him and backed himself against the wall. His body slowly sank down the wall as he pulled his knees up to his chest. Wrapping his arms around his legs he buried his face in his legs. 

“Johnny…” 

John looked up and gasped seeing that Moriarty was fully naked. Moriarty’s suits did an amazing job to hide his muscular form. He was well toned like he visited the gym on a daily bases. It was no wonder to John why this small man seemed so much stronger than him. 

Moriarty crouched down in front of him and placed a gentle hand on John’s arm which caused the doctor to flinch. Moriarty smiled softly and said, “Come along, Johnny.” 

John shook his head and turned his gaze away. “Please, I…” John whimpered softly. 

“Johnny, this is going to happen. Whether you want it to or not,” Moriarty said as a matter of fact. “So, stand up and come with me.” Moriarty grabbed hold of John’s hand and stood. 

John hesitated and after another moment he slowly stood to his feet. As Moriarty walked him out of the bathroom and towards the bed it was then that John snapped out of whatever trance Moriarty held over him. He pulled his hand away and rushed for the door. However, Moriarty tackled him before he had a chance to grab onto the doorknob. 

“No!” John shouted as he started to struggle. 

“Johnny, stop it,” Moriarty barked out. But, John continued to struggle with Moriarty straddling him it was hard for him to get freed. “Do you remember what I said?”

“No! Sherlock!” John shouted in desperation. He couldn’t do this. 

Finally, Moriarty pinned John’s body to the ground and moved his lips close to John’s ear and snarled, “If you don’t stop I’m going to take my frustration out on him. Do you want that, Johnny? Do you want me to rip Sherlock apart?” 

“N – No,” John whimpered as he let his body grow limp. 

“Then I suggest you get up on that bed before Daddy gets really angry,” Moriarty growled as he stood. 

John took a moment before he stood to his feet. He slowly turned and walked back over to the bed. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he climbed onto the bed. He turned and laid onto his back, staring straight up so he didn’t have to look at Moriarty’s intense gaze. 

Moriarty walked over to the bed and pulled out a leather cuff that was behind the head board. It was wrapped around the bedpost so he brought it over and secured it around John’s right wrist. He then secured John’s right ankle before he moved around to the other side of the bed to secure John so he was bound completely. “Well, I did have a few things in mind I want to do but after that little display I’m not sure I want to show you mercy.” 

John began to shake. “I’m sorry. Please, I didn’t mean…I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are, Johnny,” Moriarty said as he climbed onto the bed. He moved in between John’s legs and smiled devilishly at him. “But, you disobeyed me and when bad boys disobey their Daddy’s they get punished. Don’t they?” 

John shook his head. “No, please. I’m sorry. Christ, I’m sorry.” 

Moriarty reached forward and covered John’s mouth with his hand. “Spit in it,” Moriarty demanded. John looked back at him like he was growing a second head. Moriarty rolled his eyes and huffed, “Spit or you get nothing.” 

John’s eyes grew wide when it suddenly dawn on him what Moriarty was offering to him. So, he spit into Moriarty’s hand as much he could and hoped to God it would be enough. 

“There’s a good boy,” Moriarty cooed as he pulled his hand away and began to stroke himself. When he was leathered up he placed the tip to John’s hole and began to push inside. 

John’s body tensed as he closed his eyes. Tears were forming at the sides of his eyes as he felt the blunt object pushing passed his muscles and filling him to his hilt. 

Moriarty leaned down, pressing gentle kisses to John’s neck. “You’ll grow accustomed to Daddy’s cock, Johnny, and when you do you’ll beg me for it.” He pulled back which coaxed a groan from John’s throat as Moriarty slowly pushed back in. “You’re so beautiful like this,” Moriarty purred as he continued to kiss John’s neck. “And you’re so expressive.” 

John turned his head because he wanted to hide his face but it only exposed his neck more to Moriarty. 

“How accommodating of you,” Moriarty noted as he began to suck at John’s neck, marking him as his own. 

John squirmed as he pulled at his restrains because his neck was one of the most sensitive spots on his body. “No, s – stop,” John pleaded. 

Moriarty pulled back and grabbed hold of John’s chin. He turned his head so the doctor’s gaze met his own. “You’re pupils are blown wide, your panting like a puppy, and you’re as hard as a rock, Johnny boy.” He pulled his hand away and reached down to take John into his hand, slowly moving his hand up and down John’s staff. 

“Fuck,” John whimpered as his body bucked up into the touch. 

“See, you want this just as much as I do,” Moriarty purred. He leaned down and started to kiss along John’s jaw line. “Don’t fight it, Johnny. Give into what your body wants. What you desire.” 

“But, I – I can’t,” John stammered, closing his eyes. 

“Yes,” Moriarty groaned as he pulled back and pushed back in, “You can. No one has to know. It’s just us. You and I, Johnny, and Daddy will take good care of you.” Moriarty began to thrust faster in and out of John as his hand moved in time with his thrust up and down John’s cock. 

John was moaning and bucking his hips in time to Moriarty’s thrust. It was wrong. So very wrong and sick but John wanted…no, he needed to cum. More than anything he just wanted to cum. “Please…” 

“Please what, Johnny? Tell Daddy what you desire,” Moriarty purred as he continued his assault. “Use your words, pet.” 

John opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself when he heard a voice in his head say, _Fight him, John. You mustn’t give in. Fight him._ John focused his gaze back on Moriarty’s face and he did the only thing he was capable of. He spit in the madman’s face. 

Moriarty froze. It was in that moment John realized just how much trouble he was in when Moriarty turned his gaze to John. The criminal’s eyes were burning with rage. “Stupidity isn’t a good look on you, Johnny. I guess I’ll need to train you better.” Moriarty squeezed the bottom of John’s staff and with the other hand he moved it up and wrapped it around John’s throat. When he had a good enough balance he began to thrust into John with brutal force. 

John’s mind suddenly went to Sherlock. _I’m sorry, Sherlock, I can’t beat him._ John thought as his felt the air slowly being pushed from his lungs. _Please, I don’t want to die. Not like this. I’m sorry. Please, I want to live,_ John screamed within his mind. 

“You belong to me,” Moriarty growled as his hand started to move up and down John’s staff. It caused John to arch into his hand. “Don’t worry, Johnny. Daddy will retrain you and then you’ll see. You’ll understand. I’m only doing this for your own good.” 

John could feel the heat pooling in his lower stomach even though how raw it felt. There was no lube on his cock or inside of it. It was burning and painful and yet somehow it was turning him on. _What’s wrong with me?_ John thought. He tried to struggle just a little but Moriarty’s grip tightened on his throat. _Christ, I’m going to cum before I die._ And just as the thought crossed his mind John’s vision went white as his body tensed, shooting his load all over Moriarty’s hand and himself. He looked up and saw Moriarty’s body shaking and his face twisted in pleasure. The psychopath had come inside him. 

Moriarty smiled down at him and purred, “That’s my good boy, Johnny. You are my beautiful boy.” Moriarty leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. 

John closed his eyes as he felt Moriarty’s lips on his forehead. He just wanted to go to sleep now. _Yeah, sleep sounds nice,_ John thought himself. That’s all he wanted to do was to sleep. 

Moriarty pulled out of him and moved to lie beside him on the bed. He began stroking John’s hair as he sang, “Sweet dreams that leave all your worries behind you; But, in your dreams, whatever they be; Dream a little dream of me…”

Hearing Moriarty singing to him was the last thing John heard before the darkness took hold and carried him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Let me know what you thought. 
> 
> I have four short erotic stories here. Just them out.
> 
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/3957394  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396054  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/351521  
> https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/351697


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter. Enjoy.

When the black town car came to a stop in front of St. Parncars International station which looked like a Cathedral from the outside but when Mycroft and Greg got out and headed inside, the roof was made of glass. It was huge and there were modern looking tubes for people to travel on.

Greg spotted Dimmock who was talking with the security when he turned his gaze and noticed him standing there. Dimmock started walking towards them and looked rather at a loss for words. “What are you doing here?” 

“I want to help with this investigation,” Greg informed him. 

“But, the Yard,” Dimmock replied slightly shocked. “It was blown up.” 

Greg would be lying to himself if he said he forgotten about that. Seeing so much death around him of people he knew and respected and all because of him, it was too much. He didn’t want to think about it. They needed to solve this in order to Sherlock and John back. “I know. I was there.” 

Dimmock’s eyes widen. “Christ, I’m so sorry, Greg. Are you…” 

“Look I just want to see the body,” Greg huffed. 

Dimmock looked startled by the rise in Greg’s tone but they had less than 6 hours to solve this otherwise Moriarty would not let Mycroft talk to Sherlock. They needed to stay focused. “What body?” 

“They body that was called in before…” Greg stopped himself to reword his sentence. “There was a murder here, wasn’t there?” 

“Well, we thought it was at first but now we think it was a suicide,” Dimmock replied. 

“Show me,” Mycroft said suddenly, startling Dimmock. 

“The body was already taken to Barts. I don’t know what you’ll find at…” 

“Damn it, just do it,” Greg snapped, cutting him off. He was getting impatient. _No wonder Sherlock gets so irritated,_ Greg thought then shook his head as he realized he just agreed with Sherlock. _I will get you back. Both of you, I promise._

Dimmock was about to protest but the look on Mycroft’s face told him otherwise. So he turned and led them to the crime scene of one of the platforms. Mycroft began to search around for any clues that would help him. “Tell me what you know,” Mycroft said to Dimmock. 

“Well, there were a lot of people around who said that the victim who was Dwayne Roberts, age 34, just fell over onto the tracks as the tube was pulling in.” 

“But, no one saw how he fell?” Mycroft asked. He walked over to a pole and saw a clear piece of string tied to a nail. It was curious as to why that was there and in such a random place.

Dimmock’s brow furrowed. “I don’t get what you mean. The man just fell, killing himself. What more do you want?” He looked at Greg. “Who the hell is this guy anyway?” 

Mycroft turned and walked up to Dimmock, staring him down. “Forgive for not introducing myself. My name is Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock is my little brother.” 

The realization on Dimmock’s face was priceless in Greg’s opinion. To see the anger and fear of standing before another Holmes, knowing there were more than one was a rather frightening concept. But, Mycroft was just a tad scarier than Sherlock because he held more power. “Oh,” Dimmock said still at a loss for words. 

“So now tell me, Dimmock. Do you have any reliable witnesses?” Mycroft asked. 

Dimmock shook his head. “No, but I might have something better.” He turned and pointed up at a camera. “I have someone going over the footage now.” 

“Then let us go and see for ourselves,” Mycroft said as he motioned for Dimmock to lead the way. 

“Right,” Dimmock said as he walked off. 

As Mycroft and Greg followed Greg leaned over and whispered, “You can be a right arse, do you know that?” 

“Whatever do you mean?” Mycroft asked trying to sound innocent. 

“You scared him,” Greg huffed. 

“I did no such thing,” Mycroft replied. 

“You’re intimidating, Mycroft,” Greg said as he watched Dimmock disappear around a corner. 

Mycroft pushed Greg against the wall, startling him as he did so. “Am I now?” 

“Mycroft, this is no time too…” 

Greg was cut off when Mycroft pressed his lips to Greg’s. The DI tried to fight it but it was no use. Mycroft had the upper hand on him and he did realize there was no point in fighting it. Finally, Mycroft pulled away and smiled at Greg. “Any chance I get I’m stealing one.”

Greg smiled at him. “You’re a right git, do you know that?” 

“I try,” Mycroft smirked.

Suddenly they heard someone clearing their throat. They turned to see Dimmock leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “Oh, please. Don’t stop on my account.” 

Greg pushed Mycroft away and fitted his coat. He walked away from Mycroft and didn’t look at Dimmock as he passed him. “Not a word,” he muttered low. 

Mycroft followed after and only smiled at Dimmock as entered a security room right behind his lover. Dimmock shook his head and didn’t comment further when he joined them in the room. There was a rather large man sitting in the chair in front of 20 different computer monitors and one large one set on the desk beside him. He was watching the footage as the man fell onto the tracks. 

“Inspector Dimmock, I do not see anything more on this. He just falls.” 

“Thank you, Brock, but I’ll take it from here. Why don’t you take a break?” 

Brock did not argue. He got up and left the room. Dimmock sat down in the chair and replayed the footage again. “I know you said there must be something but I don’t see it.” 

“You see but you don’t observe,” Mycroft chimed in. 

Both Inspectors shared a glance before looking at Mycroft. Greg smiled now understanding Sherlock a little more. Most of how Sherlock acts was because of Mycroft. A little brother always looked up to his older sibling. It made sense and Greg felt a little fondness towards the brothers knowing how much they truly care. “Then enlighten us,” Greg huffed out. 

Mycroft pointed at the screen. “Look at his arms. The way they fly up, the way he arches his back and how off balance he is. He didn’t fall, he was tripped.” 

“What do you mean he was tripped?” Dimmock scowled. “There is no one else around him. Look. Do you see anyone tripping him? Maybe he tripped over his own two feet.” 

Mycroft glared down at the man. “Honestly, how Sherlock tolerated such idiocy is beyond me.” 

“Mycroft,” Greg spat. 

Mycroft looked over at Greg and saw how displeased Greg was with him. It wasn’t a good feeling, Mycroft noted for his lover to be upset at him. But, Dimmock was just a dimwitted as all the rest. “There is a trip wire,” Mycroft informed them, pointing at the screen. “Right as he steps it is lifted up and he falls.” 

Dimmock and Inspector both look and sure enough there is a little glisten of fishing wire that lifts off the ground just at the man takes a step forward. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Dimmock said in surprise. He looks up at Mycroft with wonder. “How did you know?” 

“The killer left the wire behind because I saw it tied to a pole. There must have been too much chaos for him to retrieve it so he just left it there,” Mycroft explained. “The footage just confirmed it.” 

“Remarkable,” Greg murmured. 

Mycroft smiled at him. “You’re starting to sound like John.” 

“Well, you are just as brilliant as Sherlock,” Greg replied with a smirk. 

“Do you two want me to leave the room?” Dimmock asked. 

“No,” Mycroft and Greg replied at the same time. 

“Good. Now, we need to figure out who it is we need too…” 

Brock came back in, breathing heavily as he said, “Sir, t – there was a – another…another one.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Dimmock said as he rushed out of the room, Greg close behind him. 

Mycroft looked at the screen again. He studied all the people around the platform before he turned and followed suit. 

There was chaos as people were screaming about a man that fell on another set of tracks. Dimmock and Greg both went to view the situation while Mycroft looked around the crowed platform. When he was looking at the screen there was a man with dark hair, wearing a brown leather jacket and blue jeans. He looked like he was tying his shoe but Mycroft new the truth. He could see it in the man’s face as he stared at him right now. The man was at the back of the crowed and he was smiling. Mycroft pulled out his phone and set off a quick text before he looked back up at the man. 

That’s when the man noticed Mycroft staring intently at him. Both men froze. Mycroft could see the desperation in the man’s eyes now, how wild they were and he knew that if he didn’t do something the man was going to do something else. So, he slowly moved through the crowed to the where the man was now standing. He was close enough to still hurt someone but far enough Mycroft could take him if he needed too. “Why don’t we head somewhere a little more private?” Mycroft asked him.

“Why so you could get the drop on me? I don’t think so, Mr. Holmes.” 

Mycroft raised an eye brow. “You know who I am?” 

“Of course,” the man replied. “I was told to grab your attention. Did it work?” 

“Well, since I am having this conversation with you. I do believe it did, yes,” Mycroft retorted as he slowly moved towards the man. “Why don’t we go talk about this somewhere else?” 

“But, I like it here. It’s nice,” the man said, looking up at the glass roof. “Looks like it might rain though.” He looked back down at Mycroft who was just a foot or two away. “Do you have your umbrella?” 

“Mycroft, no!” 

Mycroft turned his gaze towards the voice and it one swift motion the man grabbed onto Mycroft, pulling him to his body like a shield. He pulled out a gun from his pocket and placed it against Mycroft’s head. 

Mycroft saw that Dimmock and Greg both had their guns drawn and pointing them in his direction. “Well, this is problematic,” Mycroft said. 

“Shut it,” the man growled into Mycroft’s ears. 

“Let him go,” Greg demanded. 

“Or what, Inspector?” the man asked. “What will you do if I don’t?” 

“I’ll shoot you,” Greg growled. 

“But, he’ll be already dead,” the man huffed. “So, please go ahead but I promise I’m not the only one going out.” 

Suddenly there was a shot that rang out. The man fell back onto the ground releasing Mycroft from his hold. Dimmock was shocked still that he was able to make such a daring shot. 

Greg ran to Mycroft and kissed him. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” 

“Never better,” Mycroft replied. 

Dimmock walked up to them. “I’m…that was…” 

“A hell of a shot,” Mycroft informed him. “Thank you.” He placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “I could use a man like you.” 

“For what?” Dimmock inquired. 

“Well, for…” 

“Gun!” 

The man held the gun up in his hand and fired. Dimmock jumped in the way of the bullet that was headed right for Greg. Many of Mycroft’s men appeared and took the gun away from the man. 

Greg turned his attention to Dimmock who was shot in the shoulder. “Well, that hurts like hell.” 

“Hang on,” Greg said, pulling out his phone. “Well, get you to Barts.” 

“Thanks,” Dimmock replied. 

Finally, the bus arrived and placed Dimmock on a stretcher. Greg and Mycroft walked him out. 

“For what it’s worth, I think you two make a cute couple,” Dimmock said as he was lifted into the bus. 

“You just get well and stop having these delusions,” Greg smirked. 

Dimmock laughed. “I’ll try.”

Greg watched the bus leave and he turned to see Mycroft taking a picture of the killer before his men placed him in the back of a black van. Mycroft typed out a message and sent it off. “What was that for?” 

“We solved the murder, Greg. Now, it’s time for…” 

Suddenly Mycroft’s phone began to ring. Mycroft looked up at Greg before he hit the talk button and placed the phone to his ear. “Sherlock?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took me so long. I hope you enjoy it.

Moriarty walked into the bedroom where John lay sound asleep. He smiled as he sat down on the side of the bed, staring at his sleeping soldier with impure thoughts. Reaching out his hand Moriarty ruffled John’s hair causing the Doctor to hum. 

“Hmmm, Sherlock,” John cooed. 

Moriarty pulled his hand away as his nose wrinkled in distaste. He glared down at John, hating that it was Sherlock _his_ Doctor’s dreams. Moriarty leaned down and whispered into John’s ear. “Not Sherlock, Johnny. One way or the other I will make sure I’ll be the center of your mind…” he paused as he kissed John’s forehead before saying, “I’ll be your very best nightmare.” He sat back up and smiled when John was frowning. It made him feel better. 

Suddenly his phone began to vibrate which took Moriarty’s attention away from John. He stood and left the room. He looked down at his phone, once in the hall and smiled. Moriarty headed down towards the medical room where Sherlock was being kept. Without a word he walked up to Sherlock who was still lying in the bed and dial the number. He looked at Sherlock and said, “Keep it on speaker.” 

There was a moment of silence before Sherlock heard Mycroft’s voice said, “Sherlock?” Mycroft quickly realized he was on speaker and placed it on speaker so Greg would be able to listen in on the conversation. 

Sherlock gripped the phone, thankful to hear his brother on the other end of the phone. “Mycroft, but how? Why?” 

“Your dear brother and myself are playing a battle of wits. He just solved his first puzzle which means…Mycroft, the bomb you are searching for is at Eton Boarding School. I’m sure you are well aware, yes?” Moriarty mused. 

Mycroft looked up at Greg who pulled out his mobile and began to shoot off text messages. “Interesting choice, Moriarty.” 

“Well, I just thought it would be a nice change. You know? After the Yard and all,” Moriarty murmured. “Oh, and how are we feeling, Gregory? Any better?” 

It made Sherlock perk up. 

Mycroft looked up at Greg who just stared at the phone. He placed a gentle hand on Greg’s shoulder in hopes it would ground him. 

“When I know you’re dead, I’ll feel better then,” Greg said bitterly. 

Moriarty laughed darkly. “Oh, you are such a gem, Gregory. No wonder the Iceman values you so. Perhaps I should kidnap you.” 

That sent a shudder through Greg’s body. He felt frozen in place because he didn’t want to be the focus. 

“Jim, I assume you have a reward in place for my brother figuring out his first puzzle,” Sherlock snapped, pulling attention back on the task at hand. “And I do believe the reward is to speak with me. So, may I speak with my brother?” 

Moriarty pouted as he said, “You’re no fun, Sherlock. Fine. Here but make it quick.” He let Sherlock take it off speaker but he kept his gaze intently on the detective to not give anything away. 

“Mycroft, take me off speaker,” Sherlock insisted. 

Mycroft did. “Are you hurt?” 

“Yes,” Sherlock replied. 

“How bad?” Mycroft asked. 

“Mycroft, I need you too…” 

“Damn it, Sherlock, tell me,” Mycroft snapped. 

“Broken ribs, bruises, third degree burns on my legs,” Sherlock said. 

Mycroft closed his eyes. He felt anger building, the hatred he had towards Moriarty was going to get him through this so he could roast the madman slowly. “And John?” 

“He’s not…here. Not in the same room as myself. I don’t know,” Sherlock said softly. 

Mycroft could hear the worry in his tone. Not knowing was bad. Not knowing did things to the mind. “I’ll win this game, Sherlock, and I will get you back. I’m here for you. Always.” 

“I know, Mycroft,” Sherlock replied before Moriarty ripped the phone from his hand. 

“That’s enough. Now, I’ll be sending you a text message for your next puzzle. This one will be a little harder. Oh, and Mycroft,” Moriarty paused for effect. “Keep your pet close.” He hung up the phone. 

“You son of a bitch,” Sherlock snarled. 

Moriarty laughed. “Yes, she was. Thank you.” Moriarty turned to leave when he felt something strike the back of his head. He stopped and turned around slowly to find a metal cup on the floor. He looked up at Sherlock with dark eyes and said, “You know I could take my anger out on you but where is the fun in that when Johnny has been so compliant. I mean one mention of you and he spreads his legs for me.” 

Sherlock’s eyes harden. “Don’t you dare fucking touch him.” 

“I already have,” Moriarty mused. “And I think it’s about time for round 3.” 

“You bastard,” Sherlock yelled. “I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m sure you will but in the meantime I’ll be sure to give your regards to Johnny,” Moriarty turned and left the room, leaving behind an irate Sherlock. 

Moran was walking towards Moriarty and smiled. “You told him.” 

“Indeed I did,” Moriarty replied. 

Moran could hear Sherlock making death threats towards his boss. He didn't take to kindly to that. "What do you want me to do, Boss?” Moran asked, gesturing in Sherlock's direction.

Moriarty was silent for a moment before he growled, "Make it hurt." 

"With pleasure," Moran replied, disappearing from Moriarty's sight.

When Moriarty walked into the bedroom he saw that John was awake now, his face was pale as if from a cold sweat. Moriarty walked over to him and sat on the side of the bed. “Bad dream, pet?" 

John was straggled when he heard Moriarty's voice and he was sure it wouldn't go unnoticed. "Uh, yeah," he murmured, burring his face in his hands.

Moriarty scooted until he sat beside John and wrapped his arm around John's waste, pulling him close. "Tell me about." 

John couldn’t tell if Moriarty was asking him or telling him. Either way he really didn’t want to but he felt like he wasn’t going to be given a choice. So, he let out a shaky breath, John began. “It was…about you…and of Sherlock,” John stammered out. He kept his eyes closed tightly as he replayed it over and over in his head. “You both were on top of a building and fell over into the icy dark water below.” 

Moriarty smiled as he felt John’s body shudder. It was nice. He loved how afraid John was about losing Sherlock. It made controlling him almost too easy. Moriarty placed a hand under John’s chin and forced the doctor’s gaze to his own. “If it comes down to that, pet, I’m sure it will be over you. He will not give you up without a fight and neither will I,” Moriarty murmured softly. 

John pulled back but his gaze remade fixed on Moriarty. “But, why?” He asked sternly. “Your fight has always been with Sherlock. I wasn’t the one that wanted your attention in the first place. I was a no buddy.” He turned his gaze away. “I still am.” 

Moriarty suddenly broke into laughter. John glared at him. “Oh, Johnny, to think you don’t matter is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” He suddenly stood and looked at John. “You caught the attention of Sherlock Holmes by just stepping into the room. He noticed you. Do you have any idea what I’ve been doing for years to try and get his attention?” Moriarty sat back down on the side of the bed, facing John. “In a matter of seconds you started a life with him you didn’t even think possible. Yet, you fight the idea of him not caring about you. I’m here to tell you, Johnny, in the years I’ve been watching him Sherlock has never loved anyone as much as he loves you.” 

John’s mouth was agape. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing from his friend’s arch-enemy. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t. It didn’t make sense to him. “No,” John rasped. 

“No?” Moriarty repeated, seeming confused. 

John looked up at the madman angrily. “You’re trying to distract me. To get into my head and break me,” John snarled as he narrowed his eyes. “It’s not going to work.” 

Moriarty broke out into a wickedly delighted grin. “Oh, you don’t think I can break you, pet? Maybe I could just go break Sherlock’s fingers.” He held up his left hand and with this right he forced down his index finger on his left hand and said, “One,” he pushed down his middle finger, “At,” then he pushed down his ring finger, “A,” and finally he pushed down his pinky finger and said, “Time.” 

John didn’t want Sherlock to be hurt anymore then he already was and he hated how Moriarty was using Sherlock against him. He wanted to figure a way to get the hell out of here but he knew that wasn’t possible. With a heavy sigh he grumbled, “What do you want from me?” 

“I want you, Johnny, to spread your legs for Daddy like the good little boy you are,” Moriarty purred. 

John tightened his jaw but did as he was told. He laid back and spread his legs. He closed his eyes as Moriarty stood and started to undress. _For fuck sake. I am a grown ass man. A soldier that has killed people and here I am just letting this psychopath fuck me to keep Sherlock safe. What the fuck does that say about me._ John ranted in his mind. 

Moriarty was between his legs now and he bent down, kissing John on the nap of his neck. “It says so much about you, Johnny. How you are a good obedient pet who I’m going to fuck into submission,” Moriarty growled as he lined himself up with John, thrusting inside of the good doctor. He loved the scream that was ripped from John’s throat. “Beautiful.” 

John never thought there could be a more horrible pain then getting shot in the shoulder. Sure he had been fucked before but any of those times there was lube involved. Even Moriarty the last time used it. So what’s changed? Why was he not using it this time? Did something happen to make Moriarty upset? Suddenly when Moriarty rolled his hips and thrust back in again, John’s face twisted in pain. He pulled on his restrains as he bit his bottom lip to keep from screaming again. That’s when he felt something warm leaking down his arse cheek. He looked up into Moriarty’s eyes and knew that the psychopath had ripped him apart. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he didn’t realize it until Moriarty leaned down and licked them away. 

“Such a good boy for Daddy, Johnny,” Moriarty purred, “And perfect.” Moriarty picked up his pace now as he leaned down and started to suck hard on John’s neck, leaving love bites behind. 

John whimpered and tried to struggle but it wasn’t doing any good. In fact it was just encouraging Moriarty more to fuck him harder. John wanted it to stop but he knew it wasn’t going to and what he hated worse was the fact it started to feel good. 

“Mmmm, that’s it, Johnny. You like Daddy’s cock don’t you? Wiggling that cute arse for me to take more,” Moriarty said amusingly. “I knew you wanted this. Daddy always knows.” 

Moriarty continued to fuck John while biting and sucking on any part of John’s skin he could get too. John couldn’t stop the little moans and coos leaping from his throat even though he didn’t want it. He felt his manhood once again stand at attention for Moriarty. It seemed he really liked it when Moriarty fucked him. 

“That’s my good boy,” Moriarty praised as he took John’s cock into his hand. “You’re so hard for me, Johnny. You love it when Daddy fucks you, don’t you?” Moriarty started to stroke John’s cock which rewarded him a moan from John. “Tell me, Johnny. Tell me you love Daddy’s cock.” 

John shook his head as his glassy blue eyes looked back up at the dark brown ones. 

Moriarty squeezed John’s cock hard, forcing John to whimper as Moriarty continued to fuck him. “Come on, Johnny. You don’t want to annoy me do you? I get rough when annoyed.” Moriarty threatened. 

John’s eyes grew wide not knowing what that meant. If this wasn’t bad enough, to get fucked while dry, how much more badly can this get? “Please, don’t,” John choked out. 

“Then do as you’re told, Johnny,” Moriarty replied softly. 

John shuddered because even though Moriarty’s voice was soft, he could hear the threat that was there. Taking in a deep breath John stammered, “I love your c – cock, D – Daddy.”

Moriarty rolled his hips again making John gasps as he hit the doctor’s prostate. “You can do better than that, Johnny.” 

John’s body shook. He didn’t want it to feel good but Moriarty was now hitting his prostate with each thrust. “I love your cock, Daddy,” John said a little forced. 

It was enough for Moriarty to let it go. “I know, baby. I know you love Daddy’s cock inside you. Such a good little boy you are.” Moriarty started to thrust faster into John as his hand was now stroking John’s manhood in time. 

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” John moaned out. 

“That’s it, Johnny,” Moriarty growled low, biting John’s neck and sucking hard. 

“Fuck,” John shouted as his body bucked up meeting one of Moriarty’s thrusts. He couldn’t take much more. John was so close now. “Daddy,” he groaned. “I’m going to…” 

“Yes, Johnny, cum,” Moriarty encouraged, “Cum for me.” 

With a few more thrusts and Moriarty sucking on John’s Adam’s apple, John came with a shout. When really was surprising about this to both of them was John yelled, “Fuck, Jim.” Just as he came all over the criminal’s hand. It surprised even himself that he shouted the criminal’s name instead of what he was being forced to call him. _What the fuck is wrong with me,_ John thought to himself. 

But, because of John shouting Moriarty’s name it made the criminal cum harder than he ever had before. No, one. Not even Sebby used his first name. He wouldn’t allow it because first names like that were too personal and intimate. Now, he liked the thought of only John calling him Jim while they fucked. He started to give John light kisses on his chest and neck as he said, “You’re perfect, Johnny, and mine.” 

John looked up at him through tired eyes and hating himself for what he said, “I don’t belong to you, Moriarty.” 

Moriarty smiled down at him and said, “Yes, you do. You don’t see it yet but you do.” He began to unlocked John’s binds. “I want you to go into the loo and wait for me. We are going to take a shower together.” Moriarty moved off of him and watched as John struggled to get up. He could see that the doctor was hurting from being fucked dry but he didn’t care about that. Moriarty got what he wanted. John was his to do whatever he wanted with and he was going to do as he pleased. 

John finally got up and walked into the loo, closing the door for now. He wanted the moment to himself as he started to cry. The pain was unbearable. His lower back was killing him and he just wanted it to end. Where was their rescue party at? Why hadn’t anyone come to save them from this hell? How was Sherlock holding up? He wanted to know but first he needed to get a grip before Moriarty walked in on him. So, he went to the bathroom before moved to the shower to turn it on. 

Moriarty watched John disappear into the loo. When the door closed Moriarty walked over to his coat and pulled out his cell phone. He typed out a message and hit send. Smiling from ear to ear he turned and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Hope you like it!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapters. The feels are strong here.

Mycroft lowered the phone from his ear and looked at Greg with the fear of Moriarty would make good on his promise about taking Greg away from him. He couldn’t let that happen. No, he couldn’t and he wouldn’t. There had to be something he could do. 

Greg’s brow furrowed as he stared back at his lover. “What is it? What’s wrong? Is Sherlock hurt?” 

Mycroft didn’t know how to explain the fact that Moriarty's threat to kidnap him was serious. The criminal would do it just to put Mycroft off. No, he needed to stay focused and figure out their next clues when they came in. So, Mycroft started to walk away but Greg grabbed him by his arm to stop him. “Damn it, Mycroft. What is going on?” 

The elder Holmes turned to look at the Inspector. He smiled at him and said, “We need to go.” 

Greg looked confused. “To where? What aren’t you telling me?” 

But, Mycroft grabbed hold of Greg’s hand and led him back to his car where Anthea was waiting for them. “We need to get away from here.” Mycroft got into the back seat with Greg. 

Anthea nodded and got in the passenger seat as the driver got in. As the car started to head down the road Mycroft’s phone chimed. Mycroft looked at it and sighed. 

“Our next puzzle?” Greg asked hopeful. 

Mycroft didn’t look at Greg when said, “Yes. Moriarty wants us to solve another murder over on the east side.” Mycroft gave his driver the address. 

“Does it say anything more?” Greg inquired. 

Mycroft looked out the window, avoiding Greg’s gaze as he said, “Only that we have 5 hours to solve it or a hospital gets blown up.” 

“Jesus Christ, he’s a madman,” Greg gasped. 

Mycroft nodded. “And one we need to stop.” Mycroft wanted to add before something happened to Greg but he couldn’t bring himself to speak those words. He didn’t want the Inspector to worry. One of them needed to stay focused and if Mycroft couldn’t then Greg could keep him on track. It was their only hope to get through this and to get Sherlock and John back. 

When they arrived in front of a two story blue house they got out and noticed Donavon was walking up to the door of the house like she just arrived herself. She looked revealed when Greg walked up to her and they embraced. "I'm so glad you're alright." 

Greg pulled back and smiled at her. "Me too." 

When Mycroft stepped up beside Greg Donavon glared at him. "What the bloody hell is the other freak doing here?" 

Mycroft's face remained impassive but he felt his blood boil as he took a step into Donavon's personal space. "If I ever hear you call my brother a freak again I will have you relocated to a frozen wasteland of Siberia. There you will live out the rest of your miserable life thinking about me sitting in front of a fireplace while drinking a nice whiskey. Do I make myself clear?" 

Donovan looked to Greg for assistance but when none came she nodded and huffed, “Fine.” 

Knowing that is all he was getting from her, Mycroft looked to Greg and said, "Meet you inside, darling." He leaned down and kissed Greg on the cheek before moving past them to head inside. 

Greg was blushing when he turned to see the shocked expression on Donavon's face. It was priceless and one Sherlock would have savored. Greg cleared his throat and said, "Well, I guess we should head inside." He turned and headed in to find Mycroft standing in what looked like to be the sitting room. 

Mycroft suddenly turned and stopped Greg from entering the room by placing a hand on his chest. "Gregory, I..." He let his voice trail off. He swallowed and tried again. "I'm going to ask you to please trust me." 

Greg looked confused. "Mycroft, get out of my way. I have every bit of right to work this case with you." Greg tried to pass him but Mycroft stepped in his way. 

"Gregory, I must insist that you..." 

"Stop it, Mycroft," Greg snapped, pushing his lover away. "Let me see." 

“Greg,” Mycroft finally snapped. It made Greg looked at him because it was so rarely that Mycroft called him Greg instead of Gregory. “I don’t want you to see this but I know you will want too. Because, I need you…your help with figuring this out but this is something that will haunt you if you do.” 

Greg swallowed. He knew Mycroft was just trying to protect him but if he was acting like this then what could it possibly be? “Let me see, Mycroft.” 

“Alright,” Mycroft said as he stepped to the side. 

Greg’s whole world came crashing down on him the moment he saw her lying there, unmoving. He rushed to her side. There was so much blood. Christ, why? Tears began to flow as Greg picked her up and held her in his arms. “No, God. Why?” He softly rocked them back and forth. It wasn’t fair. Why did this have to happen? “No,” Greg sobbed as he kissed his ex-wife forehead. 

Donavon gasped as she covered her mouth. She didn’t know. If she would have known she wouldn’t have let Greg in here. “Christ,” she breathed. 

Mycroft walked over and knelt down beside him. “Greg, we need to figure this out. I need you to back off.” 

“You right, bastard,” Donavon snapped. “Can’t you see he is grieving?” 

Mycroft snapped his gaze to hers. “Don’t you dare raise your voice to me when you don’t even know what’s been going on,” Mycroft growled. He had about enough of her. 

“Stop it,” Greg spat out. “The both of you just stop it.” 

Everyone’s gaze focused on Greg. 

“I’m sorry, Gregory,” Mycroft said softly. 

“I know, Mycroft,” Greg replied. “I just…It’s Cathy. Why did she have to die?” 

“I don’t know,” Mycroft said, hating that he didn’t have more of an answer for his lover. “But, we will find the bastard who did this. I promise you that but for now you need to let her go.” 

Greg knew Mycroft was right. They needed to treat this like any other murder in order to bring John and Sherlock back home. It wasn’t fair though. Why did she have to die? As Greg stood a thought accrued to him as he said, “If I had died back at the Yard do you think she would have been spared?” 

Mycroft didn’t know how to answer that. He was more happy that Greg was alive then his cheating ex-wife. But, he knew Greg loved her. They shared so many years together of love and memories that Mycroft hoped to have with him one day. But, now he wasn’t for sure. “Let’s just focus on figuring this out, Gregory.” 

Greg nodded and tried to focus but he couldn’t. Cathy’s body just laid there limp and covered in blood. He turned and stormed out. Mycroft wanted to go after him but he looked to Donavon and said, “I need to figure out who killed her. If you please, could you comfort him?” 

Donavon didn’t hesitate. She followed Greg outside where he lit up a cigarette and was taking a long drag off of it when she walked up to him. “I thought you quit.” 

Greg blew out the smoke and stared at it as he said, “So, did I.” 

There was silence for a moment before Donavon asked, “So, how long have you and the older Holmes been…” 

Greg smirked. “Sense the divorce actually. Mycroft had me trail after Sherlock and John for a case because he couldn’t. It was fun. So, since then I’ve kept an eye out on them. But, I didn’t think it would lead to this.” He pointed up at the house then took another drag off his cigarette. “I don’t know what to do, Sally. I feel like something bad is going to happen.” 

“Like what?” Donavon asked. 

Greg was debating about telling her everything that was going on. He wanted too though because he knew if there was only one he could trust it was her. “What happened at the Yard and with this happening now? It all has to do with Moriarty. He is playing a game of wits and the reason Mycroft is here is because that psychopath has Sherlock and John at his mercy.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Donavon gasped. “And you think this is part of it?” She asked, pointing to the house. 

Greg nodded. “I know it is. It is our second clue. Mycroft needs to figure out who killed her before time runs out or another bomb will go off.” 

“Fucking Christ,” Donavon spat out. “What the fuck?” 

“My thoughts exactly,” Greg said, finishing off his cigarette. “Now, I think we should…” 

Suddenly there were shots being fired so Greg and Donavon took cover behind a car. 

“Who the hell is firing on us?” Donavon shouted. 

“I don’t know but we should start firing back,” Greg shouted as he pulled his gun from is hostler and began to shoot. 

Donavon did the same and began to fire. “Damn it, I’m out,” she huffed. 

“I am too,” Greg huffed. “Where the fuck is everyone?” 

“I don’t know but if we don’t…” she was cut off by a big bald man knocking her out from behind. 

“Sally!” Greg shouted. He was about to rush over to her when the bald man pointed his gun in Greg’s face. 

“You’re coming with me, Inspector,” the bald man said in a rough tone. 

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Greg huffed. 

“You don’t have a choice. Now, we can do this one of two ways, pretty boy. Either you stand and come willingly with me or I knock you out and drag you.” 

Greg was trying to think of a way out of this. When he heard a click and smiled. 

“He isn’t going anywhere with you,” Mycroft said, pointing a gun to the back of the bald man’s head. “In fact if anyone else tries to kidnap him I will personally put a bullet through their head. I really dislike paper work but being the British Government I do get what I want and what I want is for you to drop your gun.” 

The bald man laughed. “You think it will stop here? He is worth a lot of money.” 

“And I will stop at nothing to make sure he stays at my side,” Mycroft snarled. 

“Oh, yeah,” the bald man huffed. “I think you should…” 

Before the bald man could even spin around to take the gun from Mycroft, the elder Holmes shot the man in the head. He was dead before his body hit the ground. He looked up and saw the shock on Greg’s face. Mycroft stepped closer to Greg, closing the distances between them. “I’m sorry, Gregory. It seems Moriarty has put a price on your head. You’re not safe. I need to get you somewhere safe.” 

Greg shook his head. “But, I want to stay with you.” 

Mycroft sighed. “I can’t work like this. Knowing I need to keep one eye on you. I can’t do it and figure out who killed your ex-wife. This is about bringing John and Sherlock home but all I can think about is keeping you safe. Moriarty is doing this to keep them longer. I am sorry, Greg, but I’m not as strong as you give me credit for. If I lost you…” 

Greg cupped Mycroft’s face in his hands and he kissed him gently. “I feel the same about you.” 

Mycroft smiled at him. “Good. So you understand that I need you in a safe place that is far away from here.” 

Greg nodded. “I understand.” 

“Alright then, Anthea will take you and I will continue my work here,” Mycroft said. 

“Not without me your not,” Donavon said, slowly standing to her feet. 

“Christ, Sally. Are you alright?” Greg asked, helping her to her feet. 

“I’m fine,” Donavon huffed. “Just a slight headache but I will power through it.” 

“Then it is settled,” Mycroft said. He kissed Greg again and said, “Be safe.” 

Greg smiled softly and said, “You too.” Before he turned and followed Anthea to a black car. 

Mycroft watched the car vanish from sight. It was the hardest thing he had done but it was for the best to keep Greg safe. He turned to Donavan and said, “Do you know the owner of the house?” 

“Yes, he is a PE teacher at a nearby high school,” Donavon said. “It seems school is in session.” 

Mycroft rolled his eyes as he walked to his car. 

“What? You didn’t think that was funny?” Donavon asked, walking beside him. 

“No,” Mycroft said flatly. 

“Oh, come on,” Donavon huffed. “You know it was.” 

“No,” Mycroft replied as he got into the driver seat and Donavon got into the passenger seat. He glared at her but she glared back. 

“Look, like it or not I am your partner right now. So, let’s just get this over with, yeah?” 

Mycroft sighed as he started the car and headed off down the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for reading. It means a lot to me. You keep me going and I just want to thank you for that. I feel like I've come along way and I am excited to say I am getting a comic book published and I will be at Planet Comic Con in KS this month. I can't wait! You all are amazing!

John didn't turn around when he heard the door to the shower open and close. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath when he felt Moriarty's naked body pressed up against his. It was becoming too much and he cursed himself as a shiver went down his spine when Moriarty started to kiss his neck. The doctor wanted nothing more then to jerk away from the monster but the fear of Sherlock getting hurt kept him frozen to the spot. 

"You're being so cooperative, Johnny," Moriarty said as moved to John's left shoulder. “I like that.”

John stiffened the moment he felt Moriarty's tongue circling his scar. He wanted to moan but he bit the inside of his cheek. Mainly so he didn't give the madman the satisfaction of hearing him. 

However, Moriarty caught on and sucked hard at John's scar causing the doctor to whimper. "That's what Daddy likes to hear. Such a good pet," Moriarty cooed, moving his hands down the front of the doctor's stomach to his thighs. He thrusts his hips forward, driving his erection between John's arse cheeks. The hot water from the shower's spray washing over both of their naked bodies and getting caught as Moriarty pressed himself against John. "Tell me your darkest secrets, Johnny," Moriarty whispered into John's ear. “Tell me your deepest desires.” Moriarty’s hands came to rest on John’s manhood and earning a gasp from John. “I want to give you what you want, pet. What you crave. I can give you anything if you tell me you belong to me.” 

John hated himself for thrusting his hips forward the moment Moriarty’s hand gripped around his cock. He didn’t want this. Not again. He was tired. Not to mention he wanted nothing to do with this psychopath. But, he had to remind himself that Sherlock was here too. Somewhere in this building and who knows what this madman already has done to his friend. He wanted to rip Moriarty a part but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything at all. Not with Sherlock here. With a shudder John said, “I – I belong to…” John hesitated because he wasn’t for sure if he could bring himself to say it. Hell, he already called his Daddy and Jim. What could be more degrading than that? He slowly turned in Moriarty’s arms to face the criminal and said, “I must applaud you, Jim, for bringing me this far down to your level that I am giving into you but I want you to know this before I lose my wits about me. Know that I will never truly belong to you. Sure you can torture me, beat me, rape me, and whatever else you can think of in that devious mind of yours. But, I will never truly love you. You’re forcing something because of fear. The fear of knowing you are hurting the man I actually love. Yes, there, I said it. So, believe me when I say this that I hate you James Moriarty. With every fiber of my being and I will never stop hating you. However, knowing you have the man I love I have no choice but to do as you tell me to do. I will submit because the life of another is on the line. You know, Sherlock once told me that caring about people doesn’t help save them and at the time I agreed. Now, I’m not so sure I should have jumped to his side so quickly.” John paused and smiled a small smile at the memory. “He is brilliant. And you, Jim, are nothing like him. Because he cares about people even if he doesn’t let on he does and that makes him better. Better than you. So, for me to say I belong to you is me submitting because my love for him is stronger than you can ever possibly know. I would do anything to keep him safe so whatever you’re going to do to me will never change any of that.” 

Moriarty was blown away by John’s speech. He didn’t think the doctor had it in him but there it was. The cards were played and Moriarty smiled like he was giving the winning hand. “Thank you, Johnny,” Moriarty said, running a hand through John’s wet hair. “You are truly an unpredictable little soldier. Just when I think I have you figured out you go and give me a battle speech. I’m sure you were one hell of a Captain, weren’t you? All those privates under you and doing as you commanded of them? Tell me this, how many accompanied you in your private quarters?” Moriarty’s hand gripped into John’s hair and yanked it back. John hissed and gritted his teeth as Moriarty did so. “I wonder what it would have been that special soldier you just couldn’t help but fuck at night. Getting you by as it were and enjoying as they submitted to you.” 

John’s eyes grew wide realizing what Moriarty was suggesting. “I never forced them.” 

“Of course you didn’t, Captain,” Moriarty mocked. With this other hand he started to stroke John’s cock which drew an unwanted moan from John’s lips. “But, you made them join you, didn’t you? You fucked each and every one of them. Tommy, Frankie, Graham, just to name a few and they all still followed you until the end. Why do you think that was, Johnny?” 

John closed his eyes. He didn’t want to hear anymore of this. “Shut up.” 

“Why do you think they stayed so far away from you and no one has spoken a word to you sense?” Moriarty paused, a smile playing on his lips. “Because they fear you just like you fear me. They knew what power you had and they just took it with stride. Like a good little soldier. So, you’re right about one thing. Sherlock isn’t like me at all. But you, Johnny, are my equal.” 

Tears started to run down John’s cheeks. He wasn’t like Moriarty. What happened wasn’t forced. John never forced anyone to do anything they didn’t want to do. Sure some of his men were a little shy at first but it worked out in the end. He was a good man. “Fuck you,” John spat out at Moriarty. “I’m nothing like you.” 

“Oh, no?” Moriarty cooed as he pushed John up against the wall and pinning him there with his body. “You’re attracted to danger, Johnny. You seek it out and greet it like an old friend. Sherlock knows it best. Sure you are a good man. You save lives but like I said before about how you can take life away too. Life was shit before Sherlock came into your life and he was good for a little while. To give you that danger you longed for but now you had a taste of something new and who better to give you your fix then me? I am what you need, Johnny. The most dangerous man in London and here we are, naked and in a shower together. Who says I don’t care?” He leaned forward and whispered, “Because, if I didn’t you’d be dead already. I might have made you into a pair of shoes. My most favorite pair to, that I would wear for only the best occasions.” 

John shuddered as he tried to swallow a lump in his throat. It was to terrifying to even imagine that human being could do such a horrifying thing. But, Moriarty was no human because he didn’t even flinch when he spoke so gruesome about such things as to killing someone and wearing them around. No, John was nothing like this maniac and neither was Sherlock. “You’re out of your bloody mind, you psychopath.” 

Moriarty laughed. “And you’re still as hard as a rock, Johnny boy.” 

John didn’t even realize. He looked down and saw he was in fact still hard despite the madman’s words. He felt that there must be something wrong with him. That Moriarty did some rewiring on his brain while he was asleep because he should be disgusted at the thought. However, he started to moan as Moriarty moved them back under the hot spray of the water as he continued to jerk the doctor off. “I fucking hate you,” John snarled.

Moriarty smiled as he started to kiss John’s neck once again. “I know.” Moriarty sped up his movements and soon John came with a shout. He helped John lean back against the wall before returning back underneath the spray. The water was still hot and it felt good as it washed over him. When he looked back he noticed that John’s gaze was roaming over his body. Moriarty smiled and said, “If you want Daddy’s cock in your mouth all you had to do was ask.” 

John’s eyes snapped up to meet Moriarty’s. The horror of Moriarty’s cock in his own mouth was something he didn’t think about. “No.” 

“Yes,” Moriarty smirked. “Christ, why didn’t I think of it sooner. I want you on your knees, Johnny, and suck Daddy’s cock or I’ll make Sherlock do it while you watch.” 

There it was again. Moriarty threatening Sherlock to make John do as he was told. Somehow it made it easier knowing John wasn’t doing this of his own free will. Yet, this was Moriarty he was dealing with and he knew the criminal would somehow make John see he wanted this to happen or he would do far worse to Sherlock if he didn’t. The thing was John wasn’t for sure he could do this. It wasn’t just that fact that he hated Moriarty but he loathed the man and even if he couldn’t control his own body, at least he knew he could come back from it with years of theory. But, this. It was something far worse. To give pleasure to a monster who he’d rather kill with his bare hands was unthinkable. John shook his head and stammered, “I – I can’t.” 

Moriarty moved closer and placed a hand under John’s chin as he said, “Oh, I believe you can, Johnny. In fact, just think of me as him if you want. If it will help but if you don’t do this I’ll make you force Sherlock down while I’ll do unspeakable things to him. Do you want that, Johnny? Do you want to watch helplessly as I fuck the man you claim to love and turn him into a heaping mess because I would loooove that,” Moriarty said as his finger began to trace John’s lips. “We both know what you’re going to choose so stop delaying the inevitable and just suck Daddy’s cock with that whore mouth of yours. Like the good little boy I know you are.” 

John’s hands balled into fists at his sides. He wanted to hit the man but he dare not for the fear of something happening to Sherlock. _Christ, he is a right bastard,_ John thought to himself. Finally, John knew he couldn’t delay any longer because of the frown Moriarty was wearing didn’t look promising. Shutting off his mind completely John stepped forward, forcing Moriarty to step back. John closed his eyes as he dropped to his knees. It hurt. His arse hurt from being fucked and his knee was aching but he was a soldier. He’d be through far worse even if he couldn’t think of anything right now. 

“Come on, Johnny, let’s speed things a long,” Moriarty said impatient. 

John glared up at the madman but said nothing. He raised his left hand and realized it was trembling. _You can do this,_ He told himself. It was something he’s done before in the past. Late at night when one of his men would wonder in to his chambers and he would make them bite his belt to keep them from screaming as they came into his mouth or over his hand. He enjoyed watching their faces twist from the after math from shame and embracement. They belonged to him and under his command they followed him. Now, he was on his knees, in a shower, with a man that could snap his neck at any moment without even thinking twice about his life. Suddenly that gave John a new surge of arousal. Thinking how broken him must be to find that as a turn on, John did his best to steady his hand as he grabbed onto Moriarty’s prick. He started to lean in and stopped himself. “Jim, I…” 

Moriarty had about enough John’s hesitates and grabbed hold of the doctor by the back of his head, shoving his face into his crotch. John’s mouth was open from trying to speak and so now Moriarty’s cock was down the back of his throat gagging him. “This is why, Johnny. You do as you’re told. Daddy always gets what he wants.” Moriarty gripped John’s head and began to fuck his throat. “Christ, you feel amazing.” 

John was trying to struggle and pull away because it was hard to breathe. However, Moriarty’s grip on him was iron locked. So, as much as he hated it he was going to have to ride it out until Moriarty came. The thought scared the hell out of him. He didn’t want any part of this psychopath in him then he already had been. Now he was forced to taste him in a more intimate manner. No, John was not going to be okay after this. 

“Christ, Johnny. You’re mouth is everything I dreamed it would be,” Moriarty groaned as he continued thrusting his cock in and out of John’s mouth. 

John gagged while Moriarty continued his assault and felt sick the moment the criminal mentioned he dreamed about doing this to him. The fact that the criminal was thinking about him at all made him want to throw up. He didn’t think he could take much more. 

And then Moriarty said, “Johnny, look up at me.” 

It took everything within John to muster up what strength he had left to look up at the master criminal. Their eyes locked and in that moment John’s world crashed down around him. Moriarty thrust so hard into John’s throat that Moriarty finally spilled over and his semen gushed down John’s throat. The criminal’s body was shaking as his hands gripped into John’s hair. “Fuck, Johnny,” Moriarty breathed as he waited until his cock went limp and finally pulled out of John’s mouth. He smiled down at John and even though they were still in the shower, he could tell the doctor had still been crying. Moriarty reached out and brushed the tears away with his thumb as he said, “You belong to me, don’t you, Johnny?” 

John blinked away his tears and slowly nodded. “Yes, Daddy, I belong to you.” 

Moriarty leaned down and said, “That’s my good boy.” Moriarty helped John to his feet and then kissed John longingly on the lips. “Now, what are we to do about that flat mate of yours?” 

Suddenly the door to the shower was opened and Moriarty was yanked out of the shower and thrown across the room. He was still slightly in a half daze when he looked up to see who was standing over him and pointing a gun at his head. Moriarty smiled as he said, “You’re too late. He belongs to me now and there is nothing you can do or say that will change that fact. But, you’re more than welcomed to try.” Moriarty laughed a dark hollow laugh. “Just know not everything is as black and white as it seems. A wolf in sheep’s clothing and now he is running with the pack where he belongs. Woof.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. It means a lot to me. You keep me going and I just want to thank you for that. I feel like I've come along way and I am excited to say I am getting a comic book published and I will be at Planet Comic Con in KS this month. I can't wait! You all are amazing!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to write as much as I can because I will be so wrapped up with going to Planet Comic Con to sell my comic book Lamebrains. 
> 
> If you want to know what it is about the first few chapters are on the facebook page. Please check it out.  
> https://www.facebook.com/lamebrainscomic/?fref=ts

Anthea was sitting across from Greg, tying a way on her phone. It was hard for her to consecrate on the task her boss entrusted her with when Greg was acting fidgety. “Mr. Lestrade, is there something I could help you with?” 

Greg looked at her and huffed, “For fuck sakes, Anthea. How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Greg.” 

Anthea smiled at him. “Alright, Greg,” she said as she lowered her phone. “What is wrong?” 

He looked annoyed at her. “How can you honestly ask me that? John and Sherlock are in the hands of a madman, Mycroft is facing off alone against him because that said madman put a fucking target on my back. So, you tell me how I am supposed to _feel_ right now because I bloody fucking well don’t know!” 

Anthea frowned at him. “I’m sorry, Greg. I am just doing my job.” 

Greg waved her off. “I know. I know. But, I can still be unhappy about it.” 

“And you have every right to be,” Anthea replied. She hated to be away from Mycroft as well. She was his right hand and she could hold her own in a fight. “Look, for what it’s worth. I’m glad you’re alright and that you two are happy.” 

Greg smiled at her. “Thank you, Anthea. That means a lot coming from you.” 

She looked surprised. “Does it now?” 

“Well, of course it does. Mycroft trusts you with his life which means I should too. You are just as important to him even if he doesn’t say it out loud. I know you know that.” Greg paused as his gaze locked with hers. “Thank you.” 

Anthea nodded and said, “You’re welcome. Now, let us get you to…” 

Suddenly a car hit the driver side of the car and all time slowed. Greg leaped over and covered Anthea with his body to protect her from the shattered shades of glass. When the car came to a stop Greg looked up to see two men jumping out of the back of a black van that hit them and rushing over to the car. 

Anthea groaned as she said, “What the fuck happened?” 

“We need to go,” Greg said panicky. He opened the door and realized that the two men were to close for them to make a run for it. After all they wanted him, not Anthea. “Don’t move.” 

“What? Why? Greg, what are you planning to do?” Anthea asked. 

“They want me, not you. If they think you’re dead they won’t mess with you,” Greg whispered as he got out of the car. “Don’t move.” He closed the door just as the men rushed around and grabbed hold of him. 

“Well, hello there, Inspector. Glad to see you’re in one piece,” the taller man said. 

“No thanks to you,” Greg snapped. 

The shorter man punched him in the stomach. “Shut your mouth.” 

“You know I think we could make better use of that pretty mouth of his,” the taller man said as he used his gun to circle Greg’s mouth. 

“Sod off you wanker,” Greg snarled. “It would be a cold day in hell before I put anything of yours in my….” Greg was cut off when the taller man shoved the barrel of his gun into Greg’s mouth. 

“You were saying, Inspector? Oh wait, you can’t, can you?” The two men laughed as the taller man fucked Greg’s mouth with the gun and causing Greg to choke. “You do that rather well, Inspector. I wonder what it would feel like if my prick was inside your mouth. I’m sure you’d be a good little cock sucker.” 

Greg was trying to speak but kept chocking on the barrel of the gun. He wanted it to stop and worried that Anthea was going to try. She was in no shape to try and stop this. _Christ, if he so much as squeezes the trigger even a little bit,_ Greg thought terrifyingly to himself. This was no way to die but at least it would be better than Moriarty getting his hands on him. 

“That’s enough, Jay. I want a turn at him,” the shorter man huffed. 

“All in due time, Rich,” Jay spat back, pulling the gun out of Greg’s mouth. “First we need to get him away from here.” 

“Right,” Rich said. As both men turned they froze when they saw Mycroft standing behind them and holding up two guns, pointing them at either man’s head. 

The smaller man reached around his back but Mycroft fired and down the man went. He then pointed both his guns at the taller man who was using Greg as a shield. “The fuck!” Jay shouted. “You fucking prick!” Jay pointed his gun at Greg’s head and cocked it. “I should fucking kill him,” Jay snarled. 

Mycroft chuckled darkly. “Then you don’t understand how much he is truly worth alive, do you? Typical small minded criminal, you’re already dead where you stand.” 

“Who are you to call me small minded?” Jay snapped, jabbing the gun harder into Greg’s head. 

Mycroft shook his head. “Even now you don’t realize you’re about to die.” 

Just then a shot rang out and Jay was dead before he hit the ground. Mycroft dove for Greg and they moved around to the other side of the car to shield themselves. 

“Not yours I take it?” Greg asked. 

“Unfortunately, no,” Mycroft huffed as he looked around. “Where’s Anthea?” 

“She’s alive and still in the car. I told her to stay there and don’t move,” Greg replied. 

Mycroft nodded. “Alright, good.” He looked around and saw a nearby restaurant that had blacked out windows. “There is our best bet.” 

Greg looked where Mycroft suggested running too. “But, wouldn’t it be full of people? Mycroft we can’t put other lives in jeopardy.” 

“And I can’t lose you again…” Mycroft shouted. He didn’t mean too but Greg was just as important to him as Sherlock was. “Do you trust me, Greg?” 

Greg took Mycroft’s hand and smiled. “You know I do.” 

“Good, now move,” Mycroft said as they started to run for the door. There were more shots fired but they were aimed more at Mycroft than Greg. When they busted through the door of the restaurant, eyes turned in their direction. 

A man in a nice suit walked up to them and said, “Sir, you can’t be in here.” 

“To hell with that,” Greg spat out, trying to catch his breath. 

Mycroft glared at the man. “Point me to your back door.” 

“My what?” The waiter huffed. 

Mycroft rolled his eyes. He grabbed Greg’s hand and rushed past the man to a door that leads to the kitchen, ignoring all the eyes that were staring at them. “We need a diversion.” 

A man big man with dark black hair, tattoos up and down his arms, and a meat clever in hand walked up to them and said, “Running for someone?” 

Mycroft nodded. “Yes, and we would appreciate if you could show us the way out.” 

The man pointed with the meat clever. “Well, that is the way out but if you want to lose them I suggest you hide in there.” 

Mycroft saw the man was pointing to a small office. He looked and Greg who nodded at him. “Alright but they are armed.” 

“So are we,” the man smiled as the other five men in the kitchen held up guns. “Now, get in there.” 

Greg pulled Mycroft into the small office and closed the door just as a tall blonde rushed through the kitchen door. 

“I don’t want any trouble. I just want the Inspector,” the blonde man said. 

“They ran out the back and I suggest you do the same or Jacks will be mopping you up into a bucket and pouring you into the sewer,” the head cook said. 

The blonde looked around the room and knew he was out gunned. “Alright, fine. But, if I found out they are here…” 

There was the sound of five guns being cocked. It was a rather unsettling sound. “You’ll what?” The head cook asked. 

“Nothing. Thank you for your time,” the blonde man said as he headed for the back door and disappearing from sight. 

When the head cook was sure that the man was gone he called out. “Cost is clear, boys.” 

Mycroft opened the door as Greg followed close behind. “Thank you for that.” 

“Don’t mention it, Mr. Holmes,” the head cook said. 

Greg and Mycroft looked at each other before Greg said, “You know who he is?” 

“Of course and I know who you are too, Inspector Lestrade,” The head cook said. “You threw me in jail for ten years.” 

Greg’s eyes widen as he gripped Mycroft’s hand tighter. 

The man started to laugh. “No need to look so afraid, boys. I’m not going to hurt you. In fact you saved me. I was headed down a horrible path and the time I spent gave me time to think about my life. This place,” He held up his hands. “Is all mine. Names Frank Holts but everyone calls me Frankie.” 

It suddenly accrued to Greg who this man was. He was the head of a myth lab 10 years ago when Greg and his team busted him due to a murderer they were following. It was one of Frankie’s men that murdered a young man at the time. Greg talked with Frankie and had his sentenced reduced for being so helpful but Greg always wanted to do more for man. “Frankie, it’s really good to see you. Why didn’t you tell me you were out?” 

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted to know, truth be told. It was a part of my life I wanted to work passed. You helped me so much, Greg. I want to thank you for that.” Frankie put a hand on Greg’s shoulder. “You are a great man, Inspector.” He saw Mycroft shifting from foot to foot and removed his hand. “So, tell me, why are you running for a little shit like that blonde?” 

“Have you heard of a man named James Moriarty?” Greg asked. All eyes snapped up with shock. 

It was Frankie’s turned to shift from foot to foot. “Yeah, we know of the name.” 

“He is after me,” Greg replied bitterly. “He already has two of my mates and he was the one that set off the bomb at the Yard.” 

“So, let me get this straight. It sounds like he was trying to kill you and now he wants you brought to him,” Frankie said. 

“Yes, but we can’t let that happen,” Mycroft interrupted. 

Frankie smiled at Mycroft. “Well, why not? It seems to me you have the perfect way in.” 

“That might be true but I have a murder to solve and less than an hour to do it in before another bomb goes off,” Mycroft snapped. 

“Do you know where the bomb would be?” Frankie asked. 

“More than likely it would be at St. Barks,” Mycroft replied.

“Good,” Frankie said as he looked over at one of his men. “Zack, I want you to take a dozen of our men over to St. Barts and look for the bomb. Do is discreetly.” 

“You got it, boss,” Zack said as he rushed out the door. 

“Jacks, I want you to see if our blonde friend is still outside. I want to have a word with him,” Frankie said. 

“Sure thing, boss,” Jacks said as he rushed out the door. 

“What’s your plan here, Frankie?” Greg asked. 

“Well, I am sure the blonde would have the information of where to take his prize so he could get paid. He tells us what we want to know and we storm the castle to get your friends back,” Frankie explained. 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Greg said. 

“You didn’t. I owe you one,” Frankie said as he smiled at Greg. 

Jacks came back into the kitchen with the blonde man whom seemed to be bound. “Here you are, boss.” 

Frankie walked up to the blonde and held up the meat clever he still held in his hand. “You’re going to tell me everything I need to know.” 

“Fuck you,” the blonde man growled. 

Frankie pulled his arm back and swung the blade hard into the blonde’s man shoulder. The blonde man started to scream but Jacks covered his mouth. “Tell me or I’ll put you on the menu.” 

The blonde man’s eyes widen out of fear. He started to talk but was muffled by the hand covering his mouth. 

“That’s better,” Frankie said. “Now, you’re going to tell me everything you know and if I like what I hear I might just spare your life. Got it?” 

Jacks removed his hand so the blonde man could speak. “I understand,” he whimpered. 

Frankie looked back at Mycroft and Greg and smiled before he turned back to the blonde and said, “That’s a good lad. Now tell me, where do we find Moriarty?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> My comic book Lamebrains. Read the first pages. Hope you like it! 
> 
> https://www.facebook.com/lamebrainscomic/?fref=ts


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. The feels are strong with this one.

When Moran entered the room, he closed the door behind him and walked over to the doctor that was still naked and hanging for chains. “You look so appealing like this. Like a pig led to slaughter.” He reached his hand out and began to knead her right nibble between his forefingers and thumb. 

The doctor gasped and tried to move away even though it was futile. She didn’t want this sick fuck to touch her anymore. “Please, stop,” she whimpered softly.

Moran stepped closer to her, closing the gap between them as he said, “But, you like it. I know you do.” 

She shook her head as she closed her eyes. Her body started to tingle slightly. A chemical reaction of endorphins released because her body didn’t know any better. That’s what she kept telling herself anyway. She didn’t want it. Not from this lunatic but her body didn’t know any better as she started to feel aroused again.

“Hey, you fucking twat. Why don’t you leave her alone and come play with the big boys,” Sherlock mocked, throws off his sheet. 

Moran turned his gaze to Sherlock but did not stop as he twisted the doctor’s nipple hard. It caused her to yelp and bite her bottom lip to keep from screaming. “Why would I want to when you’re so helpless to the point you can’t stand on your own two feet to stop me? I find this very rewarding.” 

Sherlock glared at him. “Funny, how your small little mind works. I’m surprised Jim has kept you around for so long. But, I guess you’re no longer the favorite toy to play with, are you Sebby? You’re broken and so he tossed you aside when he found a new toy to play with. Didn’t he? Men like him and me; we eventually throw away the old and play with the new.” 

Moran pulled his hand away from the doctor at that point, which Sherlock was thankful for. However, he was not prepared for what came next. “What makes you think John is no different? Jim will get tired of that little shit to and when he does I’ll be sure to put the old dog to rest.” Moran moved over to the table against the wall on the left and picked up a melt cattle prod. “Jim, said to make it hurt. I think I can make that happen.” He walked over to the side of Sherlock’s bed and hit the button causing Sherlock to jump. Moran laughed. “This is going to fun…for me.” He pushed the melt tip into Sherlock side and hit the button. 

Sherlock yelled and jerked, trying to getting away from the electric currents contracting his muscles. When Moran stopped Sherlock glared up at the sniper and said, “You’re going to pay for that.” 

Moran snorted. “Oh, yeah. What do you think you’re going to do, Sherlock? You can barely move.” 

“Not me. Her,” Sherlock said, motioning behind him.

*****  
Then.

Sherlock couldn’t take it any longer. He threw back the sheet which caught the doctor’s attention.

“Sherlock, for the love of God, you promised me. So, will you please stay still?” She demanded of the detective. 

But, Sherlock was already up on his feet, limping across the room to a melt table that was against the far wall. “I need to get you out of those chains.” 

“Sherlock, listen to reason. If you do he’ll…

Sherlock turned his gaze to her and stated bluntly, “And if I don’t we are going to die.” Sherlock turned back to the table and find a small scalp. He slowly limped his was over to her and began to use the tip to help unlock the chain. “I have a plan and I need you to play your part.” 

“I’m not an actress,” she replied bitterly. 

“True, but you are our best scenario at this moment to get free from here. So you must trust me.” Sherlock freed one of her the locks and fixed it enough so with enough force she could pull it free. 

The doctor looked Sherlock in the eyes, studying him a moment before she smiled at him. “I can tell you really love him.” 

Sherlock paused and stared at her. Calculating before he blurt out, “You’re in love with him?” 

“Were, past tense and yes, but that was a long time ago. I can see what he likes about you, Sherlock. You two were meant to be soul-mates.” 

Sherlock didn’t know what to say and he didn’t have must time before he heard Moriarty’s voice on the other side of the door. “Wait until he leaves.” 

She nodded, understanding what Sherlock was saying now. Sherlock turned and did his best to limp back over to the bed before the door opened.

*****  
 _Now._

Moran was about to turn around when the doctor wrapped the chain around the sniper’s throat from behind and held on as tightly as she could. Moran dropped the cattle prod to the ground and began to try and pulled at the chain but it was no use. He then tried to reach around and but Sherlock was standing before him now. The detective took hold of the snipers by his wrists and held them so it would be harder for him to fight back. Slowly Moran’s body fell to the ground as the doctor and Sherlock moved with him. 

After another minute Sherlock checked for a pulse and when he didn’t find one he looked up at the doctor and said, “I think that’s quite enough, don’t you think? You are a doctor after all.” And then he gave her a toothy grin. 

The doctor realized and released Moran. She looked up at Sherlock and was in shock. “I can’t believe that I just…” 

“You played the part well. He had no idea you weren’t bound,” Sherlock praised her. He slowly stood to his feet and was thankful he was able to stand even though it hurt like hell. “Now, we just need to find John.” Sherlock was heading for the door but was stopped by her. 

“Sherlock, I just murdered James Moriarty’s right hand man. I have no clothes but a doctor’s coat and you can hardly move,” the doctor informed him. 

“Get to the point,” Sherlock spat out, clearly annoyed. 

“Moriarty has cameras and more henchmen in the building,” she snapped. “If you run into anyone, what are you planning on doing?” 

Sherlock slowly limped over to Moran’s body to search his person. He found a cell phone and a gun. He quickly shot off a text message to Mycroft’s phone before handing it over to her. “It is on vibrate so if anything comes through I need you to answer it.” 

“Who will it be?” she asked. 

“My brother,” Sherlock replied, gripping the gun in his hand. “Now, do you know this place at all? Where I would find John?” 

“Moriarty has many rooms on this floor. If anything he would be the last one on the right. That is the biggest room and I think he had it refurbished.” 

Sherlock nodded and said, “Alright. Why don’t you get that lab coat on and we will go.” 

The doctor nodded and slowly moved over to closet. She opened it up and pulled out a long white lab coat and covered up. As she moved back over to where Moran’s body laid she picked up the cattle prod and followed Sherlock out the door. 

They hurried down the empty hallway as best they could and made it to the door without issue. When Sherlock opened the door he quickly raised the gun and then lowered it when he didn’t see anyone in the room. A quick glance around his rage began to fuel him. There was blood on the floor as his feet the moment he stepped into the room. Not to mention the blood that was on the sheets on the bed. His gaze went right to the handcuffs that were hanging on the headboard and his gripped tighten on the gun his knuckles were now white. 

“Sherlock,” the doctor whispered. 

Sherlock looked over at her and saw the bathroom door was closed. He wasn’t thinking about anything but John when he walked over to the door and listened. To his horror he could hear Moriarty moaning praises to John while the shower played in the background. 

_“You belong to me, don’t you, Johnny?”_ Sherlock could hear Moriarty say. 

_“Yes, Daddy, I belong to you.”_ Came the weak defeated response of John. 

_“That’s my good boy.”_ Sherlock heard Moriarty reply before he opened the door. He charged forward and before he opened the door to the shower Moriarty added, _“Now, what are we to do about that flat mate of yours?”_

Sherlock couldn’t take anymore. He opened the door and yanked Moriarty out of the shower, throwing the criminal across the room. 

Moriarty was in a slight daze when he looked up to see Sherlock standing over him and pointing a gun at his head. 

Moriarty smiled as he said, “You’re too late. He belongs to me now and there is nothing you can do or say that will change that fact. But, you’re more than welcomed to try.” Moriarty laughed a dark hollow laugh. “Just know not everything is as black and white as it seems. A wolf in sheep’s clothing and now he is running with the pack where he belongs. Woof.”

Sherlock cocked the gun. “I should kill you right where you sit.” 

“Why don’t you do it then? Hmmm, well go on, Sherly. DO IT!” Moriarty shouted, causing the female doctor to jump. 

However, Sherlock didn’t flinch. “Because the living isn’t done with you yet,” Sherlock snarled as he stepped forward and hit Moriarty hard across the face with the gun. There was a distinctive sound of a bones cracking as the criminal to fall over on the ground. 

“Jim?” 

Sherlock turned around and headed for the shower. He looked over at the female doctor and said, “Keep an eye on him,” motioning to Moriarty. 

She nodded and gripped the cattle prod tighter in her hands. 

Sherlock stepped into the shower and knelt down in front of John, ignoring the pain in his legs. “John, I’m here.” 

John looked up through a fog like state. He blinked a few times because the figure before him couldn’t possibly be real. “Jim?” John asked weakly. 

“No, John. It’s me. It’s Sherlock.” Sherlock reacted out a hand and was about to caress John’s cheek when John flinched back. His eyes widened and he began to shake. “John, what is it?” 

“Not, Jim,” John whimpered. “Jim!” 

“John, stop this. It’s me Sherlock. I’m your friend and I’m here to take you out of here,” Sherlock informed him. 

John shook his head. “You’re not my friend.” 

Sherlock sat back on his feet, staring dumbfounded at John. He’d never thought that John could be broken but it seemed he was wrong. His heart began to ache as he watched John shiver. It was then that Sherlock noticed how naked John was. How exposed he was and Sherlock stood. He turned away and stepped out of the shower. 

Moriarty was still sitting on the floor, blood running down out of his nose and down his chin. However, the criminal was smiling a smug grin. “He doesn’t belong to anymore. Johnny is mine.” 

Sherlock held up his gun and fired. 

“Ow,” Moriarty snapped in shocked surprised. He looked to his left shower that was now bleeding from a bullet hole. He glared up at Sherlock. “You son of a…” 

Sherlock fired another shot.   
“Oh, come on,” Moriarty snapped, looking at his other shoulder. “I swear to god if you…” 

Another shot was fired but this time it wasn’t from Sherlock’s gun. Sherlock spun around to find the doctor had fallen to her knees. 

“NO!” Sherlock fired, hitting Moran in the chest. The sniper fell back onto the ground. 

“Sebby!” Moriarty shouted as he struggled to move but he couldn’t due to blood loss. 

Sherlock rushed over to the woman and took her into his arms. “You’re going to be fine.” Sherlock stared at her bullet wound. There was already a good amount of blood loss. She wasn’t going to be fine. 

She smiled up at him. “He was going to shoot you. But, I stopped it because…because he needs you.” 

Tears formed at the corner of Sherlock eyes. “Please,” he whispered. 

“Captain,” she said softly, her gaze shifting to the side. 

Sherlock looked up and saw John was hovering over them. John’s eyes were fixed on the woman’s wound. He then knelt down next to her and took her hand in his own. “My best gal,” John replied softly. He kissed the back of her hand and held it up to his cheek.

She smiled at John and said, “Knock ‘em dead, soldier.” Her eyes slowly fell closed and her hand fell from John’s grip. She was gone. 

John leaned down and lightly kissed her on the forehead before he stood. He turned and started to walk towards Moriarty when Sherlock grabbed onto him and pulled him back. 

“John, you can’t kill him,” Sherlock insisted. 

“Sherlock, let go of me before I break your arm,” John snarled. 

Sherlock froze. It seemed John realized at this point who he was and was not afraid of him. “John, we need him alive as much as it pains me to say.” 

John looked back at Sherlock and felt dread wash over him. Sherlock looked just as bad as he did, if not worse. They both were in so much pain both psychical and mentally that John wasn’t sure how they could come back from that. Finally, John slowly sank to the ground as Sherlock fell with him. They held each other close until Mycroft, Greg and a swat team stormed in to find them. Without a word, Mycroft and Greg helped Sherlock and John by getting them some clothes and walking them out of the hell they found themselves in. It was over.   
Moriarty and Moran was rushed out and taken to a locked down facility. It seemed if they got Moran there in time they could save him. 

_Pity,_ Sherlock thought.

Just as Sherlock and John stepped into the back of the ambulance the building exploded. The four of them looked over at Moriarty as he smiled back at them. 

“I guess that makes number three,” Moriarty mocked as the door closed and he was rushed off. 

Mycroft wanted to see that monster suffer for all that he had done and he would. He would make sure of it personally. Mycroft turned back to Sherlock and said, “We’ll be right behind you.” 

Sherlock nodded as the closed. When the ambulance started moving, Sherlock took John’s hand into his own as the paramedic gave them both something for the pain. “I’ll be here when you wake, John.” 

John looked over at Sherlock and smiled at him. It was reassurance that Sherlock knew John was glad for that. They closed their eyes and knew when they woke they would be safe…and together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do believe I will have one chapter left before I end it. Thank you all for reading. It means the world to me.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. This is the last chapter of this story. It answers a few more things but I will be working on a sequel to this one. So, I hope you enjoy.

Three days later. 

Mycroft stepped into the cement room. His jaw set and his face impassive as he walked over to the bed where the criminal lay with his arms in slings. He wanted nothing more than kill the man but he had a lot to answer for. The police he murderer, the lives that were lost at the station and the bomb that would have taken so many lives at St. Bart’s from them if it wasn’t for Frankie and his crew finding it first. Not to mention the murder of Greg’s ex wife. Mycroft wasn’t for sure why her life was taken. He knew it would give Greg piece of mind knowing but he wasn’t for sure Moriarty would be so willing to share. 

Moriarty could see the rage vibrating off the elder Holmes in waves and smiled. “So, bad cop it is then,” Moriarty said, sounding smug. “It’s understandable really. After all the pain I’ve caused, all the heartache. Why it is enough to want to see my head on a stake isn’t it, Myc?” 

Mycroft squared his shoulders as he said nothing. He just stood there staring down at Moriarty. 

“What? You’re not going to indulge me with conversation? That’s fine. I can do the talking for the both of us if you life. I don’t mind.” 

Moriarty laughed. “It was funny, wasn’t it? The moment right before the elevator doors closed. When he was on the phone with you and he realized the gift wasn’t from you. The fear in his eyes was something I replayed over and over. He is beautiful when he is afraid.” 

Mycroft shot forward and gripped Moriarty’s throat. “It would be far too easy to kill you. Something I dream about but I’m not going to,” Mycroft snarled into Moriarty’s ear. “I’m going to forget about you. We all are going to forget about you.” He released his grip and turned, heading for the door. 

“Do you want to know why she died, Mycroft?” Moriarty asked, pleased when Mycroft stopped. 

Mycroft turned around before he reached the door and asked, “Why?” 

“Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me so my ex-husband was erased from existence,” Moriarty smirked, enjoying the color drain from Mycroft’s face. “I was a little surprised myself to learn that Cathy wanted him to die. But, who am I to judge?” 

Mycroft stepped closer to the bed again. “You’re lying.” 

Moriarty chuckled. “I may lie about many things, darling but about this…I would never.” He said in a sing-song tone. “Just to back my claim on this I have the evidence if you want it, Myc. It is under the name Richard Brooks at Bank of Ireland, safe deposit box 221.” Mycroft turned and was heading for the door when Moriarty called out, “Tell Johnny to dream a little dream of me because I know I will be dreaming of him.” 

Mycroft left the room, never looking back. 

*****

John stood in an empty court yard, looking down at the tombstone that read, Jennifer Stine. He reached out and placed a single red rose on top of the stone. 

“I’m sorry, John.” 

John closed his eyes. His body shook and he did his best to keep control. He felt anger towards the man standing behind him and he wanted to just tare him a part but something still was keeping him from doing so. “Why are you here, Sherlock?” 

“I didn’t…I didn’t want you to be alone.” 

John smiled at how child like Sherlock’s tone sounded because he didn’t want to upset him. However, whatever Moriarty did to him or whatever he burned his head John wanted to hate Sherlock even if a part of him still didn’t want too. It was a battle within his own mind and John wanted it to stop. “You can’t be here, Sherlock. Please, just let me be.” 

Sherlock took a step closer to him. He wanted to reach out and take John into his arms but he knew how much the doctor was struggling. Sherlock wished there was something more he could do to help John block it all out. “She helped me to escape. It seemed Moriarty held her captive for while but something gave her the strength to fight.” He paused before he added, “That something being you.” 

John’s hands balled into fits at his sides. He felt so much rage. That he suddenly turned and swung at Sherlock but the detective was ready for it. He grabbed John’s arm and pulled him into himself. John started to struggle to get out of his grip but Sherlock held tight. 

“Let go of me damn it,” John snarled. 

“She was your first love, wasn’t she?” Sherlock asked. He already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from John. 

The fight started to slowly slip away from John. His knees buckled and he slowly fell to the ground. Sherlock fell with him, still holding his blogger in his arms. They sat over her grave, clinging to each other. Either knew how much time past before John gathered enough strength to speak. “She was a nurse in the army hospital I was at. There was a young girl that was in a coma and Jennifer cared for her. Every day she was there and I would stand at the door watching how Jennifer took care of the young girl. Then one day the young girl was awake and Jennifer was no longer there. The young girl I later found out was her daughter. I still keep in touch with Rose. She has a beautiful family and a loving husband.” Tears were streaming down John’s cheeks. “I had no idea that even that far back Moriarty was even capable of taking away someone’s life.” 

Sherlock ran his hand through John’s hair, enjoying the man’s warmth that pressed against his own. “Moriarty is locked up now. There is no way he is getting out.” 

John pulled back, glaring at Sherlock as he snapped, “You think that is suppose to make me feel better? Well, it fucking doesn’t.” John pulled out of Sherlock grip and stood. “He took so much from us, Sherlock. I can hardly look at you without wanting to kill you.” John buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I can’t be around you right now. Not until I work through whatever this is. Whatever he did to me…I just can’t.” He looked back up at Sherlock who was standing now. He looked like a lost puppy dog and it made John want to smile. “I love you, Sherlock. I really do but I can’t be around you right now. I need to fight through whatever is going on in my head. The more I am around you the more I want to hate you and I don’t want that. Please understand this is for the best.” John turned and started to walk away when he saw Greg walked towards them. 

“I thought you could use a pint,” Greg said to John. 

“That sounds good,” John replied as walked towards Greg’s car, never looking back at Sherlock.

Sherlock looked at Greg and said, “Take care of him, would you?” 

“You know I will, Sherlock. Now, why don’t you head home,” Greg replied as he walked over to his car.

Sherlock just stood there and watched as the man he loved walked out of his life. 

*****

When Sherlock returned to 221B it was all he could do to step foot into a place that felt so empty. That was until he saw Mycroft sitting in his chair. It made sense now why Greg showed up to take John away. Mycroft wanted to have a word with him but he was in no mood to deal with this brother right now. “What is it that you want, brother dear? I would rather be alone.” 

Mycroft looked sad. Something Sherlock rarely saw from his brother and Sherlock’s brain was on high alert. “Sherlock, there is something you need to see but first I want you to sit.” 

Sherlock didn’t want to sit in John’s chair. He felt as though it would burn him the moment he sat down but he did as Mycroft asked. When he was seated, it was the first time Sherlock noticed the tablet in Mycroft lap. Mycroft tapped the screen and turned it to face Sherlock.   
The woman on the screen was none other than Greg’s ex-wife Cathy. It seemed as though she was reading something on her own screen and said, “Yes, I want Greg Lestrade dead.” There was a pause as she looked to be reading. “Why? Why do I want him to die? Because, he ruined my life, that’s why. He doesn’t care about me. I thought he did but nope. Come to find out he likes to sleep with his own kind. Can you believe that? I always knew there was something off about him but to be a faggot? Really? I was the love of his life and now he’d rather suck on a hotdog than be a real man.” She was reading the screen again and smiled. “I don’t care how you do it. I just want him dead for ruining my life. So, yes please. Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me so my ex-husband is erased from existence.” She was reading the screen again and nodded. “Thank you.” The screen went black and a few moments later she was there again. “This isn’t what I wanted to happen you son of a bitch.” She read the screen, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You weren’t supposed to blow up the Yard. Only to have my Greg…” She was reading the screen and gasped. “You monster. I can’t believe that you did this. Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m going to the cops. Whatever happens to me I will take with stride. I hope you die.” Then the screen went black. 

Sherlock sat back not knowing how he felt about this. He looked up at Mycroft who look just as lost as he did. “She wanted Lestrade killed.” He wanted to add the irony of herself ending up dead but he thought it went without saying.

“I know,” Mycroft replied bitterly. “I don’t even understand it myself.” 

“Because she found out he was sleeping with a man?” Sherlock couldn’t fathom that. It was hard to understand. “She thought her life would be ruined from that?” 

“Some people have such a strong belief that man and woman is the way things should be. But, I think for Cathy it was the fact that she shared a bed with the man for 12 years and had two children with that she couldn’t fit her head around. You think you know someone but in reality you don’t. There are deeper secrets lying underneath their smile. For her this was a breaking point. Her world would be destroyed if her family and friends found out. But, that was all in her mind. So, this was what needed to happen or what she believed needed too.” 

Sherlock sat forward and placed in elbows on his knees. He places his hands in front of his face, taking in what Mycroft was saying to him. “Have you told Lestrade yet?” 

Mycroft shook his head. “That’s why I’m here.” He handed the tablet over to Sherlock. “I don’t think I can.” 

Sherlock took it. “You want me to hide it.” 

“I think it would be better that he never found out the truth,” Mycroft replied. 

Sherlock nodded. “Probably for the best.” 

There was moment of silence before Mycroft asked, “How’s John?” 

“He wants me to stay away from him right now. Whatever Moriarty did I think it broke something within him. John says he has rage towards me and he just needs to work past it.” 

“I know he will. He is stronger than we give him credit for,” Mycroft said. “He will come back to you.” 

Sherlock nodded. “I hope so. I’d be lost without him.” 

“And he without you,” Mycroft said before he stood. “I must be off.” 

Sherlock looked up at Mycroft and asked, “Mind playing a round of Operation?” 

Mycroft smiled at him and sat back down. “I would be delighted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I do hope you enjoyed reading my story. I am working on a sequel to this. What did you think of this? Was everything answered you wanted it to be? Are you excited for me to write a part two to this? 
> 
> You all keep me motivated to write more. Thank you for that. I love to write so much. I can't want to continue on.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. 
> 
> https://www.facebook.com/violetgreen1987/?fref=ts


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